


Batman Novel: Dark Heart

by TowerofBabel



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), Batman: Arkham - All Media Types
Genre: (more tags to come), A bloody heart is found, Barbara Gordon is Batgirl, Damian is taught a very lesson in discrimination, Dick Grayson and Barbara Gordon nude, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Dick Grayson vs Harvey Two-Face, Dick Jokes, Dick and Jason find a bloody heart that keep changing DNA, Dick and Jason mock each other, F/M, Gen, Harley Quinn is very abusive, Joker - Freeform, M/M, Multi, Spyral, The Court of the Owls, The Joker puts a smile on Nightwing's face., The Red Hood - Freeform, basic instinct - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:54:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 39,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23413393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TowerofBabel/pseuds/TowerofBabel
Summary: The discovery of a bloody heart in a mason jar with its symbiotic properties rises questions: where did it come from, and why was it discarded at a crime scene? When its origin is learned—it could very well cost the entire Batfamily their lives when an old foe comes back to destroy Dick Grayson's happiness!
Relationships: Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson
Comments: 20
Kudos: 19





	1. A Little Hero Admiration

**Author's Note:**

> Direct Sequel to my Novel: NIGHTWING JUNIOR

Nightwing shook hands with a member of the GCPD as Batman and Commissioner Gordon spoke to each other about something on the side. Red Hood had helped against Professor Pyg's latest caper, followed by Batman after the fact, but Jason quickly left the scene because the police didn't think highly of his gunslinger ways.

 _Good deeds never go unpunished,_ Nightwing thought. _I'll thank Jay later._

To Nightwing, it was yet another day encountering yet another super criminal with yet another fiendish plot against the good citizens of Gotham. The full scope of Professor Pyg's scheme was not yet known, but the investigators would find out. They would thoroughly comb through his makeshift lab in the basement of an average looking apartment complex building downtown.

Nightwing had received a tip from an informant that something strange was going on in this area and he personally checked it out. It was only by the grace of God did he smell something bizarre when he was about to leave, initially finding nothing. It was the smell of ammonia. Leaving no stone unturned, he checked the area again, and just happened to hear noises coming from a vent in the back alley.

Using a sophisticated device invented by Tim, he unleashed a synaptic controlled mechanical spider whereas he was able to navigate through the vent that only a rat to get through and used its telescopic lens to look through a grated ceiling vent.

Here he found Professor Pyg's lab. Since this was on Jason's turf, he called him for backup. He also let the rest of the team know; Batman coming later, being half-way across the city.  
Jay was enthralled to assist. Super-villains were one thing, but the man who wore a pig's mask and butchered his victims was an evil beyond itself, and one more than one occasion, Jason had said, he wanted to blast a hole through 'Little Piggy's' face!

Jay was closer then Nightwing thought. In fact, he said he was already monitoring the area for suspicious activity, receiving a tip that something unusual was happening in the building.

They entered the building, picking the lock to the main entrance, and made their way underground. Then they swooped in like bats and took care of their prey. Of course, Professor Pyg tried to fight back with a giant carving knife while protecting his projects—for which HAZMAT had to be called in to remove. There were also signs of animal experimentation that needed further investigators to categorize and document.

Afterwards, Nightwing experienced a little fanfare with his popularity in Gotham. He had spent some time in Bludhaven, Gotham's sister city across the bay, but he was most known as the Caped Crusader's second hand, and was the most renowned former Robin. Every one of law abiding status knew him and admired him for what he was doing.

Dick Grayson, aka Nightwing, enjoyed a little praise every once in a while. He considered himself a frontline deterrent against crime and he had had put his life on the line many times to stop most of the notorious criminals ever to wage war on humanity. He enjoyed the job of the majority of the time, some days, not so much.

He once told Barbara that: 'Life was a Carnival', and from a circus performer's point of view, that seemed apropos. Even when he grew into a man from the boy who was adopted by Bruce Wayne after his family died at the hands of a criminal, becoming his ward and partner in fighting crime, he never forgot his roots, and he never forgot his family—biological or adopted.

Over the years, his adopted family grew, but he made it a point to remember all their birthdays. But of course, some people forgot his, and some people did not even pay attention. Jason once gave him a birthday gift in March, Tim gave him a gift in December, but at least Damian remembered his true birthday—which was the first day of Spring.

"Nightwing", the cop said, after shaking hands, "my son is a big fan of yours. Would you be free to drop by his birthday party next week? It would really make his day."

Night blushed and smiled. "How old is your son, Officer?"

"Eight, but he'll be nine next week. He follows your exploits all the time. He has media excerpts, newspaper clippings, and he even went as you last Halloween."

  
Nightwing looked down at his costume, then looked back at the Officer. "I hope he wore something brighter for people to see him? My costume isn't exactly favourable in the dark—which is exactly its intention. I don't want criminals to see me."

"Of course, he wore a reflector jacket," the Officer replied, "and he was with lots of friends."

Night smiled. "Thank you for the invite. Sure, I'll attend; crime permitting, of course. I'll be there with bat-bells on," he said the little humour. "Just provide me with your address."

"Oh, awesome!" The officer said with a little bit too much excitement. "Kyle's going to be absolutely thrilled that an actual full-blown superhero will be coming to his birthday party."

"But I'm sure you'll be the hero of the day," Nightwing said back with a smile.

* * *

There was just some things that made Dick Grayson smile and being invited to a kid's birthday party because an officer's son was a fan was one of them. Of course, it was for his alter ego, but it was nice to be recognized for his good deeds, and that he may inspire future generations to pick up the mantle when he couldn't do it anymore.

_In a policeman's uniform, of course,_ he thought. _I wouldn't wish being a crime fighter, or even Batman's partner, on anyone. But I'll keep that opinion to myself._

After he was finished with the officer, he slipped away into a back alley to have a moment's peace, and to get away from all the excitement. He took a deep breath and leaned up against a back wall, shutting his eyes.

With recent events over the past year, subjected to amnesia after being shot in the head, and battling an old Sypral body of his, and all the nonsense that came with, he was glad to be back to his old self.

He was surprised that someone didn't take advantage of his vulnerable situation during his memory lapse, and try, heaven forbid, to brainwash him into being something he was not. The first thing that came to his mind was the Court of the Owls, who would love to have him back among their ranks as a Talon.

Maybe in some other universe it did happen, and his grandfather, William Cobb, was feeding his other self false memories to make him believe that he was a killer for hire instead of a saviour of the masses.

But thanks to Damian, that didn't happen.

The little twerp managed to bring him back from the brink of nothingness—literally giving him a hard reality check. And with the help of Barbara, Tim, Jason, Bruce, and even Jon Kent, and others, his memories were fully of restored.

He was able to enact revenge against Jake Handles, an old Spyral buddy, who tried to dispose of him, hiring KGBeast to shoot him in the head, so his plans to build and sell a massive sonic weapon to the highest bidder would come to fruition—a weapon that Dick thought Spyral had summarily destroyed.

Obviously Jake wanted Dick out of the way, so no one knew what he was doing. Because once Dick figured things out, and how sudden unexplained earthquakes were ravaging cities and people were dying by 'sound attacks', it would lead straight to Jake. Being the brilliant man Jake was, he was able to rebuild the weapon with even greater power with schematics saved on an unknown database.

When he was alone, a small crackle was heard from the bud in his right ear, and he sighed heavily to himself from the disruption to disquietude.

Tim said, "A veteran and his fans. Quite an honour being invited to a kid's birthday party, eh Dick? I'm jealous."

Dick smirked. "Doing this as long as I have, it would only stand to reason that I would develop a fanbase," he said. "Maybe in another ten years, you'll be as popular as I am, young Padawan."

"Tsk!" he suddenly heard someone scoff over the comm frequency. "Who needs fans?" came Damian's voice. "We're here to do a job, not cater to admirers. And from what I know of your exploits in Bludhaven, Grayson, you were the epitome of vainness, never shy from the camera."

"Every once in a while it's good to be acknowledged for the work you do, Damian," Nightwing said. "And some admirers you want to cater to, especially of the female persuasion. Speaking of which, how is Supergirl?"

Damian grumbled. "Shut it, Grayson!"

Nightwing laughed. At one point, Damian had developed more than a passing fancy for Supergirl when they worked together, and every chance Dick got, he would tease the young teenager about it. It was tough to be a kid these days with all those raging hormones and there was so much more variety, too, when he was a kid.

_To be continued..._


	2. The Heart

Nightwing turned his attention when he heard the scuff of boots in the alley in the distance. Red Hood came out of the shadows, he had not left the scene as originally thought.

Jason was used to the shadows, living within from day-to-day when he was a kid, thieving, and doing what he needed to survive with his parent's problems: sobriety and gangsterism. One fateful day, when he was trying to steal the tires of the Batmobile, he came across Batman, and was given a chance at another life. Instead of a life of thievery, Jason trained to be the next Robin after Dick left due to personal differences with Bruce's philosophy.

Jason became Bruce's partner and the new Dynamic Duo Batman and Robin was born. Together they fought numerous attempts by Gotham's Rogues to usurp authority.

Then came that fateful day when Jason was taken by Joker, beaten by a crowbar, and caught a massive explosion that took his life. He was dead before Batman even got to him and was buried in the Wayne graveyard just off the Mansion property.

Years later, something remarkable happened, that shook the entire Batfamily to its core! And it has still remained summarily unexplainable. Jason came back to life!

Jason explained later that he crawled out of his coffin and walked miles down the road, eventually collapsing, but found by some people, who took him to a nearby hospital where he received critical care.

Further unexplainable events soon transpired. His memories were fully restored when Damian's mother, Tamil Al Ghul placed him in a Lazarus Pit, which, by some members of the Batfamily, scrambled Jason's brains a bit. He became a mercenary for hire, a common street thug, then got involved in high grade weaponry, selling it on the black market to the highest bidder to make his way in life. Erstwhile, eliminating some of the most dangerous criminals on the street in gangster-like fashion taking up the mantle the Red Hood, an old Joker persona.

He eventually found his way back into the Batfamily fold after the family had a few unsavoury encounters with him, self battling his own personal demons. The family helping him where they could.

Nightwing clicked off his comm in his ear, ending his conversion with Tim and Damian. "I could really go for a smoke," he said to Jason.

"That doesn't sound like you, Dick," Jason said. "Whenever you caught me smoking, you would always chastise me. It's a habit I've had since I was a kid. After a dip in the Lazarus Pit, I hardly doubt nicotine will kill me. And I enjoy smoking. You've developed some weird habits after that whole affair in being shot. But wouldn't we all? Take me for instance—once a hero, now a gun-toting, serial killer of criminals. Still a hero at heart. We put it all out there with little thanks. Life just seems so, how would the French put it?" Jason mused, signed. "I know several different languages, but the French syntax always gets me… _Pourquoi es-tu si sérieux?_ Why are [we] so serious? So, I agree. A little fanfare is well deserved every once in a while."

Dick laughed. "Yeah," he said. "My French is a little rusty. I could speak it fluently when I was in school, but when you don't use it for a while…Well, it's not like riding a bike."

"I guess that's why you're never _rusty_ when it counts, eh Dickiebird?"

Dick produced a thin smile, catching the innuendo. He had had a lot of relationships in his time, not including Barbara—whom he was now married to, eloping. So no, that part of him wasn't rusty in the slightest.

Jason produced a pack of smokes and gave a stick to Dick. Dick looked at it, then give it back to Jason. He thought he needed it, but it had only been a passing whim. He wanted to keep his body healthy. When he was amnesic, he had stuffed his body with bad food and alcohol and he was still feeling the effects even months later.

Jason lifted the front of his mask, revealing his face. Then he lit a cigarette and put it in his mouth, puffing, and exhaled smoke, seemingly with a sigh. It seemed to relax him.

Dick noticed that Jason kept the white tuff in his hair that at one point he dyed out because someone told him that it made him look older. But it was a part of him now, a result of his resurrection, and possibly a symptom of Marie Antoinette Syndrome.

The story went, as told by witnesses, the Queen of France Marie Antoinette's hair turned completely white the night before she was to be executed by the guillotine during the French Revolution, a symptom of utter fright. It was a rare occurrence, but documentation showed that the hair of some people turned completely white after a deathly fright. Being buried alive would constitute that in Jason's case.

"I'm surprised you got out of your situation the way you did," Jason then said. "You could have died, Dick. Being shot in the head, so many things could have happened to you. You could have been paralyzed, or worse—a vegetable, laying bedridden. There was even a rumour that your grandfather William Cobb was after you and had plans to turn you into some sort of super soldier if Damian hadn't gotten to you first. For once I'm glad the little munchkin pushed to get involved despite Bruce's order not to. Temporarily moving to Bludhaven and being a mini-you was a nice touch with all the crime that was happening there after Slade's reign of destruction. Damian can be impetuous at times and hard-headed, but when push comes to shove, he's actually quite dependable. I'm even starting to like the twerp."

Dick nodded. "He's a good kid," he said. "And who knows, what you described could have happened to an alternative me. We know there's a multiverse out there and there are many me's. And as you know, Slade helped me, too. He's gone silent now with his new squeeze."

"Old men in love, gotta love it. Hey, if there's still fire in the pit, you gotten use the wick or lose it."

Dick shook his head, but Jason was right. Slade had found love and Dick was happy for his old trainer.

"Superman once remarked that you are a Universal Construct, Dick, and in every universe you are the same, for the most part. You can be relied on when times get tough. When you needed help, we were there for you, just like you've always been there for us, big bro! Well, minus an inch and a half."

Jason used a hand to gesture to indicate their height differences.

Dick smiled despite the mocking. "Just don't ask me for a piggyback ride," he said.

"Your shoulders couldn't handle me. You may be the older brother, but I'm—"

"Thicker," Dick joked.

Jason clenched his teeth. "Are you calling me hefty? I don't like that."

Dick cleared his throat. "Joker calls you the hefty Robin. But trust me, it's not to make fun of you. It's a jab at me. He hates me because I am the only one of us he can never manipulate, so he has to take out his frustration on someone, namely you, and probably because of your history you have with him."

"Yeah, well—sucks to be me. I think I need another smoke." He took a last puff of his cigarette and then flicked the butt away. It flew through the air towards the ground, then heard hit something—clink—like glass. Both looked in the direction Jason had thrown the butt and despite him standing next to it, Dick had not seen the large mason jar at his feet near the wall.

Nightwing shined a flashlight on it and both were struck with awe and disgust. Inside was a bloody human heart.

"Gruesome," Jason remarked. "Do you think this relates to the current case with Professor Bacon?"

Dick eyed him and then gently lifted the jar. It was indeed a human heart, an adult heart. But it was not beating. It must have belonged to one of Professor Pyg's victims and casually discarded like a useless piece of meat.

"Professor Pyg enjoys cutting up his victims and then piecing them together like Frankenstein monsters," Dick said. "He gets a sick pleasure out of it. This heart may belong to one of his most current victims. But I didn't see any human experimentation going on in his lab in the basement when we stormed in, only animals."

"But why pickle it and then hide it outside? It doesn't make sense."

"We should verify if it belongs to any of his other victims, past or present. Since the heart isn't beating, I would say its owner has already been utilized for something else. One of Professor Pyg's undead minions, perhaps? We've seen what he can do with biotechnology and a lot of mind manipulation."

"True," Jason said. "Guess we better call home I notify Alfred that they'll be one more coming for dinner."

Nightwing shook his head. "I thought I was the comedic one in the family. But not even I would make a joke that bad."

"It came from the heart," Jason smirked, then slowly put down his faceplate. "Trust me, Dick, you've made worst jokes in your time. Where do you think I get my humour from? I'm not all of dark and gloom. You've rubbed off on me over the years, the best qualities."

Nightwing smiled. "Thanks. That sounded so heartfelt that I think I'm going to cry."

Jason groaned under his breath.

_To be continued..._


	3. Brotherly Advice

Back in the Batcave, an analysis was performed on the contents of the mason jar which produced surprising results. The tests were triple checked for verification, but each test result came back the same.

Jason was the most shocked of them all. "How the hell is that even possible?"

Still in costume, but unmasked, Dick Grayson put his head to Jason's chest and listened to his heartbeat. " _Bump—bump, bump—bump, bump…bump,_ " he audibly mimicked a heartbeat. "Yup, I confirm that you _do_ have a heart, Jay. Judging by your actions though, some claim you didn't," he teased.

Dick stood up straight and winked at him.

"I have a heart of gold," Jason said, "twenty-five karat. I'm extra special."

"There is no such thing as twenty-five karat," Tim corrected, sitting at a workstation performing a micro-level tissue analysis with an RNA protein machine on the heart Dick and Jason found.

"Lighten up, Timmy," Jason said. "You should know in our line of work nothing is impossible."

Tim snorted, then continued to look into the microscope to conduct a further analysis of a sliver he took from the heart. "At the risk of sounding negative, I can't believe this. How does this heart have your DNA signature, Jason?"

"Does it contain a quantum signature?" Bruce wondered.

Tim blinked. "As far as I can tell, and from what the data tells us, this is Jason's heart," he said, looking up from machine.

"I'm a meta-human, and I have a fast recovery rate, and buns of steel, but not even I can't reach down my throat and pluck organs out of my body to pickle them." Jason mused for a moment. "Although I have _pickled_ a few—"

"Master Jason!" Alfred said quickly stopping him, clearing his throat. "Don't be disgusting. Especially in front of the children."

Dick smirked. "Nice save, Alfie," he said.

Tim smirked at the innuendo that Jason implied. "More analysis is needed to get a 100% proof, however," he said.

"Suffice it to say, we have a bit of a mystery on our hands," Bruce said. "All of Professor Pyg's victims have been identified and all their organs and body parts verified from past crimes. And there was no human experimentation or remains in the lab Dick and Jason discovered."

"He's more of a butcher than a scientist," Dick said. "Damian and I encountered him a couple of times while I donned the cowl. Unless someone injected Jason's DNA into this heart, this is truly bizarre. Question is, why dump it?"

"A failed experiment?" Tim wondered.

Bruce put a hand to his chin. "Or simply a test for something more sinister," he said. "Where's Damian? I haven't seen him since we arrived to the Batcave."

Dick snickered to himself when he thought of a correlation between Damian and the word 'sinister' in the same breath from Bruce, albeit unintentionally.  
"Studying for an exam, sir," Alfred said. "He's very smart and takes after his father, but he didn't want to miss anything important, the young Master said."

"I wish I had an education like that little munchkin does when I was growing up," Jason said retrospectively.

"You have street smarts, sir," Alfred said. "Often common sense and instinct trumps that of scientific data. By the way, you Amazon order just arrived. Those books you purchased are upstairs in the Study."

"What did you order?" Dick asked.

"Cooking books."

"Cooking books?" Dick and Bruce said at the same time.

Jason shrugged. "Hey, I'm a skilled armourist, I know a hundred different ways to kill someone—" He winked at Bruce, Bruce frowned. "I speak several different languages, and I have the luck of the Irish with the ladies." He pumped a fist symbolizing a sexual context. Dick frowned at that. His philosophy was to treat every woman respectfully, not as a conquest. "But I'm a little lost on my culinary skills. I'm _o-kay_ , but I decided to broaden my horizons and try some more delicacies. I'm hoping you can help me out, Alfred, since you are Master Chef. Every single meal you make is divine. That's why I relish coming here whenever I'm invited for dinner."

"I would be honoured, Master Jason," Alfred said. "And flattery will get you everywhere."

* * *

Since he had a little down time, and with Tim and Bruce conducting more tests on the mysterious heart they found with Jason's DNA, a mystery well deserving of a great detective, Dick Grayson decided to get in a little exercise. More so a workout to ease his trouble mind.

He was thinking about the heart, as well. And why anyone would just dump it? _Whose heart is it really? It can't be Jason's, even though it has his DNA._ It was a question worth solving.

Forensic testing to determine the age of the heart and chemical analysis of the DNA was considered. Both tests should produce a reasonable timeline of when someone may have injected Jason's DNA into the heart to make it appear that it belonged to him for whatever unexplained reason.

Thinking, Dick Grayson did what did best, and performed a series of aerobatic exercises that helped tone his muscles and keep his mind sharp, elevating his oxygen levels to help clear thinking. He wasn't completely absolved from the amnesia that was caused after Jake Handles attempted to put him on the sidelines when he tried to orchestrate his master plan. Dick kept remembering his time with Spyral. And how he eventually he had to confront _Mother_ , and destroy her, with others in her employee. But that came after his entanglement with Jake and his faked death. He later returned to face Dick again using others like Harvey Two-Face and Riddler to get his revenge.

Employed in Spyral, it was the second time that Bruce had him go undercover to circumvent certain nefarious and suspicious activity when it came to law enforcement. The first was to infiltrate the Bludhaven Police Department, then he had to fake his own death to become a member of Spyral, a covert organization with a sinister, shadowy purpose.

When he returned back from his stint in being Agent 37, he knew that he would get an earful from the family in faking his own death. And he did, from both Tim and Jason. Jason was more upset than anyone.

You don't do that to family, he had said. Both Jason and Tim had confronted him on the top of a building when Dick finally revealed everything after Spyral. He was sorry, but it had to be done.

Dick knew had hurt the family. Jason dying hurt Dick more than anything than any villain could strike him with. Physical wounds eventually healed, but mental trauma stayed for longer—sometimes never leaving. His night terrors were proof of that. And for a time, Jason and Tim would not speak to him. They eventually came around.

Walking on his hands like a clown at the circus or one marching in a street parade, he balanced himself with ease. It helped with developing arm and core strength. And it was fun.

He walked a few metres, and then turned around, stopping when he saw a pair of brown slippers at his feet. He cocked his head slightly to see Damian.  
"Hey sport, what's up?" Dick said with a smile.

Damian rolled his eyes at the joke. He wore tights about to work out.

Dick folded, curled, and pivoted to land on his butt. Shirtless and sweaty, wearing a pair of black tights and barefoot, he seemed uninhibited by his attire. He wasn't shy about his body and one that was in prime condition. Some of the permanent scars, not so much. A beach body and he couldn't go to the beach without people staring and pointing at him was a little intimidating. He didn't like that. As Nightwing, he didn't care. But as Dick Grayson, it was only human to feel a little subconscious about them.

"Care to get down on the mat and wrestle?" Dick wondered. "I can show you a few ways to get out of an arm or leg lock Bruce taught me years ago. Also helps against the fairer sex when they decide to get a little too close for comfort, if you know what I mean? Or maybe you don't?"

Damian cupped his hips. "Would you like to be kicked in the teeth, Grayson?"

Dick smirked despite the sarcastic sting. "Don't be sour, Damian," he said, getting to his feet. "A little levity never hurt anyone. I've been accused of cracking inappropriate at times, but it helps with stress. When I was your age, girls, school, and crime-fighting were on my plate. So, I kind of know what you may be going through—puberty is hard."

Damian gave him a sour gaze. "Like you and Gordon? I heard some interesting stories about you two when you were younger, how you used to meet each other clandestinely under the guise of going out to fight crime—you weren't fighting crime at all." Grayson's smile faded. "You may know something about the fairer sex, Grayson, but you have no idea about _anything_. It's a brand new world when you were a kid and it's nothing like when you and Gordon we're socializing intimately. Things are a lot more complex. So, stuff the lectures."

Dick frowned. "True, Damian. I may not know what you are going through, but I can only pass down wisdom through experience, so there's no need to be rude. Okay, with that over, what do you want?" Dick stood on his feet.

Damian appeared to swallow nervously. He produced a gaze that seemed to penetrate directly into Dick's soul. Dick exchanged the same piercing glare. Then all of a sudden Damian's stare softened. He sighed discouragingly.

Dick locked concerned. "Damian, what's wrong? You can tell me."

Damian sighed again. "I don't know who else to ask about this. Father would be lost, Drake is an idiot but he does have experience, and Todd would only laugh at me. So, you are my last hope. We've been through a lot, been partners, bled together, and almost died side by side. But…"

"Tell me what's on your mind, Damian? You have me a little worried now."

"You've helped me in the past, got me over some tough hurdles, urged me to make the final push, but ultimately, it was my final decision whether or not to take your advice. I got close a couple of times. Yet, every time I get to the final stretch, I get so nervous I back out. You know when you want to talk to someone, your heart pounds, and then you get butterflies in your stomach so bad you feel sick? You know what you want to say, you've even practised it, but the moment you try to get the words out, you experience the worst stuttering bout you have ever known!"

Dick smiled softly. He put a fatherly hand on Damian's head. "My little brother is growing up, so what's she like? How long have you known her? Is she from your school? You aren't fantasizing about Kara again, are you?" Damian scoffed, but then told him the particulars. It wasn't Kara Zor-el (Supergirl). "She sounds so sweet. So, you really like her?" He then chuckled. "Just be warned, Arkells warned you about a particular girl not to get involved with."

"Yeah, yeah, I found _her_ at school," Damian said, "and _he's_ a nutty fruitcake."

Dick cocked his head strangely. "Him?"

"Yes, _him_! Or, to be more specific _one of them_." He placed a hand cupping his mouth and whispered: "Transgender."

Dick frowned. "Don't be discriminating, Damian. If you're not interested in that sort of thing, fine, but don't push people away just because they are different. You remember my friend Paul Wilson, who owned that dance club in Bludhaven that Joker took over? He cost Paul everything and now my friend is sitting in jail for two years because he tried to keep his business afloat. He got caught up in the wrong crowd. He was so desperate for money to make his dance club a success, he literally sold his soul to Joker, and allowed that clown to manipulate and destroy everything he built. My friend is gay, and so what—and I kissed him once. But I've told you why. Didn't anyone tell you to never judge a book by the cover? Sometimes when you read a book with a bland cover or learn about a person, who they are on the inside, they will surprise you in ways you never would have imagined." (Re: my novel ' _Joker's Folly_ ')

Damian nodded. "Sound advice, Grayson. I'll take it to heart," he said, thumbing at the scientific experimentation that his father and Tim were doing on the found organ.

Dick looked over, and smiled at Damian's humour. "There's hope for you yet, young sapling. A chip off the old block. Tell you what, we'll sit down, and I'll give you the lowdown on the _Grayson Guide to Love_. We'll talk about the birds and the bees and the flowers and the trees. You'll have to beat the chicks off with a stick when I'm done."

Damian rolled his eyes. "On second thought, never mind."

_To be continued..._


	4. Like A Virus

"Dick, Damian, come over here," came Tim's voice, sitting at the workstation. He took a moment away from the RNA protein machine to call them over urgently.

Dick and Damian glanced in Tim's direction in unison, then headed over. Dick grabbing his shirt along the way.

"What's up, Tim?" Dick said, slipping on a stark, dark, blue t-shirt.

When they got there, Tim had the most confused look on his face. "I can't explain this, well…I know scientifically it's improbable, but realistically I suppose it could be possible from what we've seen in our line of work, right?" he said very perplexed. "I was analyzing nuclei in the heart when suddenly it indicated a swift shift in the membrane-bound organelle found in its eukaryotic cells. Eukaryotes usually have a single nucleus, but a few cell types, such as mammalian red blood cells, have no nuclei, and a few others including osteoclasts have many."

Dick waved his hands in the air. "Whoa, Bill Nye the Science Guy," he said. "Some of us aren't up on our biochemistry. Can you say what you just said in simpler terms?"

Tim cleared his throat. "The epidemiology of the heart can be thought of like the ever-changing model of a virus and the DNA nucleotide of the heart has just unexplainably mutated. It no longer indicates that this heart belongs to Jason, none of his protein-markers is included in its biometrics identifiers or relative human components."

"That's not…how is that possible? DNA can't just suddenly altered self?"

Damian mused. "I'm afraid it can," he said. "Scientifically speaking, from a biological stance, evidence suggests that West African frogs have the ability to change sex after mating. That is a certain self-mutation. Certain animals who have the ability to do this, and not just frogs, they are commonly known as sequential hermaphrodites, because they have the sex organs of both male or female, have the ability to switch sexes at different points in their lives. Is there any indication of frog DNA in the heart's biometrics?"

Tim looked again, checking for amphibian protein markers. Again he looked surprised. His eyes widened when he looked back at Damian. "Positive…Okay, now I'm stumped," Tim said. "The computer now tells me that the heart is now alive. When it mutated, it must have jump-started an activity within its cells. For whatever reason, it had been dormant. After I took a slice of it to analyze, something must have reengaged cell repair and division. What I can only explain as a biological response to repair damaged tissue." Tim looked back at the mason jar, now within a containment box, and confirmed his hypotheses as the piece he had sliced off the heart had now grown back.

"Could it be a biological entity," Bruce suggested, "a species we have yet to come in contact with?"

"Oh, wonderful," Dick said sarcastically. "As if we haven't come across enough biological entities and alien species that have wanted to crush own bones into dust and destroy the very nature of our existence. Now we come across one in the shape of a human heart, mysteriously found in a glass mason jar outside a mass murderers laboratory. Could this be some sort of changeling like Beast Boy, or have the chemical components of, say, Clay Face?"

Dick looked through the iris of the RNA protein machine at the slice of the heart that Tim took off to analyze, Tim leaned back to give him room. He saw something strange and pulled back.

"Hey guys, I think I saw some freakish dancing blue light in this thing like electrical current. Take a look!"

Tim did and confirmed it. "Whoa! This supposed dead heart is now truly alive. Should we even consider it a 'heart' after this new ability? I suggest we give it another name to correspond to a new identifier."

"A new name can wait, Tim," Bruce said.

"I suggest we call it the 'Dark Heart' because its abilities are sinister in nature," Damian said.

Tim nodded. "Agreed, 'Dark Heart' it is," he said, "for now."

Just then, the computer recording the current analysis information beeped, and it brought up a biometric profile. Once again Tim was utterly shocked.

"No fucking way!" Tim inadvertently swore. He slapped the hand to his mouth and apologized.

Dick looked at the screen with equal shock. "How the hell does this thing now have Jake Handles' DNA profile? That's impossible!"

"Jake Handles?" suddenly came Jason's voice as he returned from another part of the cave. Dick knew that he was smoking away from everyone else. Bruce knew that he couldn't stop Jason from smoking, so we gave him a designated placed away from the main cave to do so. As long he had a place to smoke, Jason obeyed the rules. "Oh yeah— _him_! Your ex-Sypral buddy who tried to eliminate you by hiring a bonafide maniac to shoot you in the head, in KGBeast, while at the same time planning worldwide domination with some sort of sonic device to shake things up on a planetary scale. He also managed to use some weird shrink ray on me and turned me into a kid. Luckily the effect wore off and I returned to my handsome self." Jason smiled. "KGBeast didn't follow through with his killer-for-hire plans in Bane's plan to kill you to get back at Batman for all the times Bruce spoiled the Spaniard's plans. KGBeast tried to get two paydays for the price of one when Jake paid him to pretend to kill you. Jake then paid a private doctor to install two neural inhibitors into the left and right hemispheres of your brain to give you amnesia, so you would forget who you were, and any chance of recalling the sonic device. Once he perfected it, he planned to sell to the highest bidder from the safety of his private island in the Atlantic. His only worry was you."

Dick cocked his head. "Thanks for the recap, Jay," he said.

"That was only half of it," Tim said, turning. "Bane tried to turn me into some sort of super soldier with a new venom drug that enhanced my muscle tissue to monstrous proportions basically turning me into another him. And Marx Helfern, the son of Dr. Karl Helfern tried to help him. It was his way of getting revenge against Batman for the wrongs done to his father, who attempted to create a cure for his degenerative bone disease. It instead crystallized his body eventually causing his own death, erstwhile his mental illness turned him into a criminal to fund his experiments. I was used as a guinea pig for Bane's sinister experiments to create super soldier drug. Thankfully, everything turned out okay. We beat him. But it ended badly for him. And of course Harley Quinn played a role as well. At least one good thing came out of it, Stephanie returned and rescued me. And we are back together. I couldn't be happier."

"All you did was get your rocks off with her," Damian remarked.

"Master Damian!" Alfred chided. "Ms. Brown is a welcome sight back into the fold. She was gone for quite a long time and I personally couldn't be happier for Master Tim. He is old enough to practice protection, isn't that right?"

Tim blushed as he turned back to his work. When it came to his work, Tim could talk for hours. But when came to the matters of the heart, he got tongue tied.

"Master Jason and Master Tim have only recited two-thirds of events," Alfred said. "As we all recall what transpired in the Mansion during Master Dick's coming home party after the heralding shooting and subsequent events was equally traumatic. Edward Nygma and his daughter Engima with their goons invaded the party disguised as guests, partnered with Jake Handles, in an attempt at a last hurrah at revenge against Master Dick and our family. Edward Nygma even discovered the secret identities of the Batfamily, but then had his memory was erased of said information using Master Tim's patented erasure gas. And we cant forget Duela Dent's contribution."

Jason rolled his eyes and cleared his throat. His face went a little red. "Alfred, I'll pay you a million dollars to never— _ever_ —bring her up in my presence again. Bruce, can I borrow a million dollars?"

Bruce simply said no.

Dick and Tim snickered to themselves.

Arkells, Tim's future self (after settling certain unresolved issues with Bruce and Tim—he had not died as previously thought after he targeted Tim in the distant past suffering from severe mental illness, partially bio-fused with a supercomputer he had invented in the future, now a member of the Batfamily) was a guest at the party, and had stumbled across a disturbing sight while he was searching the Mansion for Jason and Roy, stealthy, during Riddler and Handles stunt in taking the guests hostage.

He had told everyone what he found in one of the Visitor Rooms on the second floor of the Mansion.

It hadn't been Jason's fault. Jason got so drunk at the party that he had to be carted off. Roy Harper had helped him. When he started to sober up, he found himself in a compromising position with Harper tied to a bed on top of him. Duela Dent, Two-Face's daughter, from an alternative reality—who had a split personality disorder, also known as 'The Joker's Daughter', because she liked to dress up as the female version of the Clown Prince of Crime wearing masks of a bizarre nature often made of human skin—forced Harper under duress. They were completely naked.

Roy had told Arkells Duela had told him to remove all his clothes and get on top of an unconscious Jay. Then she strapped him to the bedposts. Just as Duela was leaving, she whispered sweet nothings into Jay's ears and got him excited on a subconscious level, creating quite a stimulating situation in homoerotic fashion.

"Anyway, things ended up okay," Dick said. "We had some pretty close calls, but like family we got through it. And I finally got to marry the love of my life, eloping. Sometimes being acknowledged for the good deeds is okay, other times you just want to be alone. And for a week, I was in heaven with an angel. No other woman has ever compared to Barbara. It took me awhile, but I finally realized that was the only one for me." He paused, and he seemed to look into introspective, recalling something that only he and Barbara experienced. Then he saw everyone looking at him, and cleared his throat. "Sorry, let's get back to the _heart_ of things, and that's no joke."

_To be continued..._


	5. Grunt Work

"How the heck does the 'Dark Heart' have Jake's DNA now?" Dick asked.

Tim smiled almost excitedly. "That's the thing," he answered. "It looks like this mason jar is part of the overall package. Think of it as a protective barrier from outside contaminants much like a cocoon to a butterfly."

"Okay, you've lost me," Dick crossed his arms across his chest.

"A spectral analysis of the mason jar came back containing biometric material, too. In other words, both the heart and the jar are one. It would appear that the heart and the jar have symbiotic abilities. Therefore, whoever has touched the jar, has transferred their DNA into its overall nucleoli. Let me try to explain more simply. Humans shed cells from the epidermis, the outer layers of their skin. The same goes for animals who shed their fur. We may not see them clearly, but the partials are everywhere—you can see them mostly in the air when the sun shines at dawn as it beams through your bedroom window. The air is filled with particles. So, when you touched the jar, your DNA, and whoever you had been in contact with, despite washing your hands, blended with this entity's biometric properties."

"But I touched it with my gloves, not with my bare hands," Dick told him.

"You put your clothes on with your bare hands, right? Henceforth your cells are on your gloves. Furthermore, they made contact with a mason jar and the 'Dark Heart'."

"I'm insulted," Alfred said. "I use the best soap and detergents one can buy." Alfred snorted irked. "Someone has to wash all the blood and tissue off your costumes after you come home. They don't scrub themselves."

"And we appreciate all your hard work, Alfred," Bruce said with a thin smile. "But you can't get everything, the inside of the gloves, for example, no matter how hard you try."

Alfred snorted irked. "I steam-clean everything, Master Bruce, with a high-pressurized—"

"Are you saying that this heart steals DNA from others and incorporates it into its own cells?" Damian said, ignoring and interrupting Alfred. "Where in earth did this thing come from?"

Tim mused. "That is an interesting question," he said. "We've tangled with countless aliens and entities with similar abilities over the years, but it's strange that something with this enormity was just discarded in the middle of an alley, whereas someone could have used it to wreak havoc upon the world. I have a theory that if the heart was not discovered, it would have laid dormant and may have just disintegrated into a liquid goo over time. Then we came along. We appear to have sparked it back to life in touching it. Theoretically, reacting to our own bio-electricity. Weird, huh? I'm going to do further analysis on it to get him more information."

"Could it merely be someone's failed experiment and not alien in origin?" Jason wondered. He then mused to himself. "I don't think Miss Piggy made it. He's a butcher, and not smart enough to pull something like this off. Luther?"

"Lux Luther is a possibility, but we haven't heard anything from Superman to indicate Luther is up to his own schemes," Bruce said. "Clark would tell me."

"Maybe, maybe not?" Dick said. "But I suggest we make another visit to Pyg's secret lab in the basement of that apartment building. The GCPD are fine cops, I should know, but we can probably find something out that they missed. We know how to search more thoroughly. A great detective once said: ' _Leave no stone unturned even if it's stuck between the tread of your boots'._ "

"And who said that, Master Dick?" Alfred inquired. Bruce arched an eyebrow.

"Yours truly, of course," Dick smiled. "It may have been a while ago, but I did dabble in being a Private Eye once."

"Dick being a Private Dick," Jason said, pursing his lips. "Anyone want to field the jokes about this? It's way too easy."

Dick gave Jason a side-ways glance. "Anyway, anyone want to come with me? Jay? You were with me when we stormed the Bastille the first time?"

Jason stretched his arms and yawned. "Sorry, but I have to go home and get out of these stinky clothes. Sometimes wearing leather makes one sweat more. I need a shower and a good eight hours of sleep. I've been up for almost twenty-four hours. While the 'Dark Heart' is interesting, my _heart_ is just not in this case." He walked away, opening up his pack of cigarettes as he made his way to his motorbike to leave the cave.

"I didn't bring that child up to be so rude," Alfred remarked.

Dick sighed heavily. He was kind of hoping that Jason would join him. Out of all the Batfamily, despite his gunslinger ways, Jason was the most dependable to get things done quickly despite Batman's number one rule never to kill. And Jason was a good detective and had been since his days as Robin. Dick enjoyed working with him.

He turned to the others. "So…Damian? Tim? You want to go?"

"Though I would like to, I have some more studying to do and I have a Sociology paper due for tomorrow," Damian said. "I was working on it before I came down to the cave to get some exercise and clear my head. Time to get back to it." Damian shrugged. "Maybe next time, Grayson," he finished. He left for the elevator to take him up the mansion.

"And I'm too enthralled in this heart to leave it," Tim said. "A detective's work never ends. I'm sure you can handle it by yourself, Dick." He turned back to the his work.

Dick cupped his hips. He felt rejected and kind of insulted that they all thought of him as nothing but a grunt man while they seemingly sat back idly engaged in data work. However, he wasn't completely offended, because truthfully, he enjoyed getting out in the fresh air than stuck in a stifling cave. And he would rather _do_ the investigating than _write_ about it. Bruce wanted reports after everyone came back from a patrol, but he would let Tim handle that.

But he had to ask one other person. "Bruce?"

Bruce was leaning over a computer screen and reading its data output on the analysis of the heart. He looked up for a moment to respond. "Sorry Dick, I want to stay here and learn more about this heart," he said. "This is of grave scientific importance and it may constitute both of us to get a reasonable conclusion. Also, if this becomes a biohazard, I'll need to figure out how to isolate it more securely and quickly. I just want to cover all angles."

Bruce went back to looking at the computer screen.

Dick sighed. "Well, I guess it's up to me to sniff out any clues the GCPD may have missed," he said, seemingly to himself, as everyone had turn their backs on him. "Where are my a Scooby Snacks?"

He then smiled to himself. He then thought of someone whom he knew would heed the call to action. He picked up his phone and began to text Barbara.

_I (Heart) You, B. I need you, baby! I want you so bad! Care to meet me someplace sinister?_

Sinister was code for a case in costume. He waited. Then got a response.

_I (Heart) You, too, D! But I have a deadline. See you at home. I'm sure you can handle things alone, Birdie Blue._

His shoulders slumped. Barbara had a new job as a proofreader for a fashion magazine group and she was always swamped. She was responsible for proofreading and article fact-checking for at least five magazines.

Since they returned from their secret honeymoon, they had little time together with her job. Batgirl was a rarity these days, too. But Barbara loved her job and he couldn't blame her for that.

"I guess it's one birdie flying solo," he said to himself.

* * *

When he was a kid, Dick Grayson used to watch old black and white, cloak and dagger mystery serials. There was just something about the old time Sherlockian thrillers that excited him more than the contemporary ones. And he forgot how many times he had watched Alfred Hitchcock's _Psycho_.

So, when he snuck behind the police caution barrier and re-entered Professor Pyg's basement laboratory beneath the building it was originally found in, he loved it that he was actually engaging in actual detective work.

When he was Robin, the best cases were those where he had to use brain rather than brawl to outwit his enemies. These days, it wasn't always cut-and-dry, and most capers weren't so easy to figure out. But because he knew a lot of the criminals' modus operandi and how they worked, some were often predictable.

Despite being a dangerous foe, Riddler gave him the most bang for his buck. The most exciting cases had to deal with riddles. So, when it came to the mysterious 'Dark Heart', he was excited to hunt for clues to figure out what the heck they had on their hands. And he loved grunt work despite having to be alone.

No one actually said it to his face, but he heard rumours that when he was engaged in the role of Batman, he was known to be smarter, faster, and scarier than Batman. He didn't think so, because of all the mistakes he made. And he almost cost himself and Damian their lives on a number of occasions even against Professor Pyg.

When he entered the laboratory, he quickly made a visual survey. Forensics had gone through everything with a fine-tooth comb, but left everything as it was just in case they missed something. Batman had taken the look as well, but didn't take anything other than pictures. There was nothing here that had not been seen before in a case.

As Nightwing wandered around, he decided to investigate everything on his own starting from the beginning. He had not looked at any of the police notes that could be accessed from the police online database, but he didn't need them. He and Jason had been the first on the scene and knew what to expect.

And after an hour of hunting through everything, there wasn't anything else that he did not expect to find.

Just then, his comm-link beeped—Tim had probably found something and was alerting him. He was just about to answer it, putting a finger to the bud in his right ear, when something fell off a nearby table. He froze and listened. He gazed around the room taking in everything. The beakers, the medical equipment, the experimentation and laboratory rodents still pinned down to their slabs, partially covered with small tarps. All seemed quiet and still.

Then he saw _something_ move from the corner of his eye. He pounced like a puma and pinned down the _something_ that moved. His eyes widened when he saw _who_ it was. It was someone he thought who had left on a journey of self-reflection the last time they had spoken.

"Arkells?" Dick said surprised. "What the devil are you doing here? I thought you said you were leaving Gotham to reflect on things since you could never return to your timeline? And how did you get in here without me seeing you?"

Arkells was Tim Drake's future self. Originally thought dead after he failed to kill his past self, he returned again, somehow, to seek Bruce's help. He had fused with the supercomputer he had invented in the future to gain the knowledge to time travel, but feared that the AI was taking over his self-identity and consciousness. Eventually that fear faded and he was able to take complete control of himself implementing his consciousness with the AI.

Sometimes he was of two minds, but his was the dominant one.

He originally wanted Bruce to help him commit suicide because he was in a disturbed mental state, causing his past self to become a quadriplegic for a short time. With the help of Professor Hugo Strange, Tim Drake was able to able to obtain full mobility again with his advanced knowledge of bio-neurology after the effects of the Neural-Inhibitor Arkells brought from the future were nullified.

In the midst of helping to foil Jake Handles plot of world domination, he decided on a new name, and chose the name of a famous band he liked. He became a new ally and a worthy addition to the Batfamily.

"Hi, Nightwing," Arkells said, smiling friendly. "I've been here the whole time you've been looking around, watching you as a piece of Professor Pyg's equipment. I arrived just before you. You know I can mimic anyone and anything due to my morphing ability, remember? But it takes a lot of energy, so I have to revert back to my original form after an hour or so. I was hoping you'd leave before I'd have to change back. No dice, you just love your grunt work. Long time no see. Strange question: You wouldn't have happened to find a heart anywhere, would you?"

Nightwing got off him, eying him bizarrely. "Funny you would ask that," he said. "I did happen to find heart in a jar in the back alley. It's in the Batcave right now being examined for its bazaar ability. It's yours?"

Arkells got to his feet. "Yeah, long story," he said. "Glad to see you again. I bet I have some explaining to do?"

"That is the understatement of the year," Dick expressed.

_To be continued..._


	6. Heart Attack

Members of the Batfamily stood around in a circle as Arkells told them the weird story and the bizarre events that came about of how he pickled his own heart thanks in part to Professor Pyg performing heart surgery on him to save his life. Tim was the only one sitting down.

Jason had returned soon after he had departed on his motorcycle.

He said he came back because he had dropped a golden Flint-lock lighter in the cave. It was unique with pictures of Betty Boop on either side in skivvy tight clothing. It was a birthday present from Roy.

Dick was old enough to know of the old cartoon character from the black and white serial movie days. Not that he was old. He just enjoyed the old classic cartoons while he ate cereal in the morning.

Hence Jason he was there for the story.

Arkells showed everyone the scar down the middle of his chest. It was fading as if the surgery that happened months ago. In truth, and it only taken place a few days ago. But with Arkells' incredible healing power his muscle tissue was able to repair itself much quicker than the average person.

"Odd as it may seem," Arkells said, "I thought I was experiencing the acute symptoms of an actual heart attack. I'm not sure any of you know what I mean?"

Dick Grayson put up his hand. "Not in the convention sense, but my heart did it stop once. And it was Lex Luther who helped prevent my inevitable death by doing so. An explosive device was attached to my heart while I was trapped in a death machine. And the only way to stop the bomb from going off was to stop my heart until it was deactivated. Bruce was there and brought me back."

Jason put up a hand. "I was dead once. I had a funeral and was buried. I dug myself out. Does that count?"

"We've all be dead at one point or another," Tim said. "But I will admit your death and rebirth is the most morbid."

"I was once the odd man out, but all of you just had to rain on my parade and get yourselves killed."

Tim shrugged. "We're crime fighters and it comes with the territory. We put our lives on the line every single day when we go out into the streets. Not to say it I like it, but thanks to the Lazarus Pit we don't necessarily have to worry about dying anymore. Well, some of us anyway."

"Cold Timmy," Jason said. "Tell you what. When I see the end of the universe I'll think of you and your icy heart."

For some reason, Damian smirked.

"Anyway," Arkells said. "When I was having heart problems, I didn't know where else to turn for immediate help. I stumbled upon Professor Pyg who had just happened to get out of Arkham Asylum on good behaviour and he offered to help me as long as I did something for him."

"Like what?" Bruce frowned.

Arkells gulped nervously. "Bruce, try not to mad. I did what was necessary to save my life. When I fused with my supercomputer in the future it aided me in both my health and intelligence, but not with everything. I still have human parts. Even though I can alter my physical form, some things remain static like my heart."

"Where did Professor Pyg get your new heart?" Bruce demanded, putting the question of Arkells' deal with Pyg on hold for the moment.

"A donor, that's all I know," Arkells said.

"None of Professor Pyg's most recent victims was missing a heart," Tim stated, bringing up GCPD forensic reports on a computer laptop screen. "So, your new heart's owner is a mystery unless we can biopsy it and examine a tissue sample, then compare it to several medical databases. Someone out there is missing a heart."

"Suffice it to say," Arkells said, tired with all the interrogation. "This heart is mine," putting a hand to his chest, "and it has saved my life. Erstwhile, that heart in the jar is mine, so I would like it back. I'll find a way to dispose of it."

"No," Bruce said chillingly cold. "It stays with us. And the fact that you may have cost someone their life taking a heart that did not belong to you makes you a criminal. However Professor Pyg obtained the heart it was acquired illegally. You literally bought a heart on the black market."

Arkells was speechless.

"Tim, can you check all the medical facilities and hospitals and cross-reference with anyone who is waiting for a heart transparent? And who may have died recently as a result?"

"Okay, Bruce," Tim said, a little shocked, but then begin typing on his computer.

"We'll keep this heart in storage since you got rid of it and we'll continue to examine its changeling abilities," Bruce said. "Something like this in the hands of a super criminal would be extremely dangerous. If someone like Lex Luther got their hands on it, who knows what he would do with it. Perhaps create an army of super soldiers."

"Why not just destroy it?" Damian said. "I mean why didn't you just it destroy it if it was of no more use?" he asked Arkells. "If it was causing an imbalance and your new body, the easiest thing was to just get rid of it all together."

"Because it's alive," Tim said, "and it stands to reason that it has developed its own consciousness to mimic the DNA from any person who has ever come in contact with or Arkells himself. From my analysis, it's perfectly healthy now. Strangely enough, it has amazing healing powers much like its prior host."

"Are you saying the heart is okay?" Arkells said surprised.

"As far as I can tell," Tim nodded, turning his attention away from his computer. It was compiling a list, obtaining medical information from medical databases about the donated heart. "And the jar itself is a self-made cocoon to protect itself from external elements."

Arkells was dumbfounded. "In the words of famous science officer: _Fascinating_!"

He went to touch the jar, when suddenly he received an electrical shock. He jerked his hand back.

"What the hell? What did it just do? Reject me?"

"It appears to be suffering from some sort of abandonment syndrome and the electrical shock was its way of keeping distance from you," Tim poised. "It's having a tantrum."

"Shocking, positively shocking," Jason quipped.

Damian rolled his eyes. "Like a son rejecting his father for abandoning him," he said.

"A heart after my own heart," Jason said with a little smile.

Bruce didn't think it was funny.

"I was able to remove it from the jar without any problems," Tim said. "It must have sensed my empathy knowing that I would not hurt it. I took some slices off of it, but I spoke to it quietly and told the heart it was going to be okay under my care. It seemed to like the sound of my voice."

"You're a bit weird, Timmy," Jason said. "And I thought I was the only one that liked to talk to himself. You know what they say, if you talk to yourself your most assuredly entitled to intelligent conversation."

"When an idiot doesn't know he's stupid, intelligence is circumstantial," Damian mocked.

"Enough," Bruce said.

He touched the jar, then everyone else did. When Arkells tried again, he was shocked.

"It obviously doesn't like you," Dick remarked. "You did come back into the past and try to kill your past self. Once as an infant, and a second time, a few weeks back. Perhaps it doesn't want any more to do with you?"

"But I've changed!" Arkells protested. "Look, I'm not going to get into a philosophical debate here about whether the heart belongs here or with me. I got what I need and now I'm going to take back what's mine. I'll dispose of it myself. I fully understand that if something like this got in the wrong hands it would cause untold chaos. Best to destroy it."

Arkells grabbed the jar with both hands and suddenly he was jettisoned back with a shock so tremendous that he flew halfway across the Batcave. He rolled and tumbled and dropped off the edge of a platform precipice. He managed to grab on at the last moment to prevent plummeting into the depths below.

"Arkells!" Dick shouted, and ran to his aid. Dick grabbed hold of Arkells's hands and hauled him up to solid ground. Arkells rolled onto his back. "Jesus! Are you okay?"

Arkells felt his chest. He breathed heavily. He couldn't speak for the immediate moment trying to catch his breath.

"Ow," Arkells finally said. "Anyone get the licence plate of that Mack truck?"

Dick looked at the others. "He's fine, for the most part," he said relieved.

Jason suddenly took hold of the jar in both hands and the heart reacted to his hostility and aggressiveness.

The heart burst out of the jar and attacked Jason, plastering its entire self across his face and around his head, latching on with a series of fingers like a claw.

"Jason!" Dick shouted.

Dick was reminded of a horror movie when an alien being burst out of its cocoon and jumped at its potential victim, wrapping itself around the person's throat with a tentacle and implanted a seed.

It was no longer a heart. It was something else now.

Jason tried to pull it away from him, but to no avail. The heart's form then turned to the consistency of ectoplasmic goo and traveled down Jason's body enveloping him.

It wrapped itself around Jason. It absorbed his clothes and suddenly Jason stood before the rest of the family featureless and still. The creature clung so tightly to his body that every single muscle Jason had exhibited with prominence. He stood to the spot like a statue.

The 'Dark Heart' had turned deadly.

_To be continued..._


	7. Dark Jason

Bewildered and shocked of sudden events, Arkells got to his feet quickly recovering from the heart's attack on him. It had now transformed into something beyond even he had ever conceived.

Jason was now entombed within the heart's biometric structure like a cocoon wrapped around an insect.

Arkells wobbled slightly and Dick had to steady him.

"What the hell? What has it done?" Arkells voiced.

No one made a move. Jason was completely enveloped by the heart, mutating into something unknown.

All of a sudden, white slits emerged from Jason's black featureless face where is eyes would be and two downward white strips broached his cheekbones; his chest producing a bright white X.

Bruce cupped his son's shoulders. "Jason! Speak to me!"

Jason turned his head and then grabbed Bruce by his arms. He tossed him several feet with tremendous strength. Bruce slid across the floor, his back thumping against a wheel of the Batmobile.

Dick released Arkells and got ready to pounce against this new mysterious foe, but the moment he did, Jason crossed his arms across his chest, each finger producing razor tipped claws, and reached deep inside his chest.

Jason pulled out the _All Caste Swords_. They were swords that were magically attached to a soul given to him by a powerful caster. He was a teenager when he was given them and soon after his resurrection. Jason had travelled the world after he was reborn, and from some cosmic events, he developed tremendous recuperative abilities as a result.

The swords emerged, the blades glowing brightly. The wounds in his chest sealed up. But with the use of the _All Caste Swords_ , it used a lot of a soul energy that if Jason wasn't careful could cost him his life. So, they could only be used in short durations. Yet, the heart didn't to know this, and it was probably using everything at Jason's disposal to protect itself to an extreme measure. It was no holds barred and it wasn't taking any chances.

Jason, under its influence, fashioned the swords to fight. The heart now believed that everyone in the Batcave was its enemy, because of Jason's hostility towards it and his friendship with Arkells.

The old adage: _The enemy of my enemy is my friend_ , came to Dick.

Dick understood it was only trying to defend itself, but the Batfamily was not its enemy.

Dick played it calm, but at a distance. "Jay, it's me—Dick! We are _not_ your enemy."

Jason took a swipe with one sword at Dick and Dick flung himself back to avoid contact. He then performed a backflip to avoid another strike with the other. Jason struck down where Dick had been and made a sharp gash in the floor. The _All Caste Swords_ were always sharp.

Damian snatched six Batarangs from a nearby assembly table and then threw them at Jason without hesitation. They soared through the air like bullets in flight. But the _All Caste Swords_ easily cut them down.

Tim had moved away from his computer station and stood next to Dick. "What the heck is driving it? I mean, it's emotional state. Does it hate us? Or is it blind to friend and foe?"

"I don't think it cares," Damian added, grabbing a Bo Staff. He attacked Jason, but the _All Caste Swords_ cut the staff into pieces. Damian backed off.

In the meantime, Bruce got to his feet. "Damian may be right, but instead of taking on the cognitive traits of its previous host it has reverted back to an animalistic version filled with hate and malice that Arkells originally dwelled in. I believe the heart wanted out of him because of that reason."

Arkells looked at Bruce dumbfounded. "Are you telling me, I suffered a heart attack because the heart became self-aware and wanted to exist outside my body with its own emotional state?"

"It appears the heart was the epicentre for all your negative emotions," Tim answered. "And when it shocked you, like doctors do when they use electrical cardioversion to shock a heart back to restore normal heart rhythms, it suddenly became fully aware of its surroundings. Or, and in a mirror more darkly, the shock from both you and Jason caused it to suffer a form of amnesia. You have recently changed your personal outlook about the world, Arkells, your mind no longer filled with emotions of hate and revenge. But at one point that's all you could think of to come after me."

"Oh, c'mon," Arkells said. "You saying, it has forgotten how to be good?"

"Basically yes," Tim said. "Much like a blow to the head can cause temporary amnesia similar to what Dick suffered when he went through a bout with the Jake Handles affair. This heart has now reverted back to a ghostly intelligence and it is now operating on instinct. It saw Arkells and Jason as an attack on it. Now it sees all of us as enemies because are allies and it's defending itself against us accordingly."

Dick snapped his fingers. "I have an idea. The All Caste Swords harm only evil and this thing—we'll is him 'Dark Jason' for the moment—has turned him evil, or eviler. Jason has always had a mean streak about him, but he also has a good heart despite everything that's happened in years. If Jason is in there, he knows the swords won't harm us."

"That's fine," Damian remarked, "but like I said, _it_ —the heart—doesn't care! Whether the _All Caste Swords_ are magical, or _de partea binelui_ —"

Dick smirked. That was Romani, his gypsy bloodline, for "on the side of good".

"—they're currently being wielded by a maniac under an alien influence who has been proven to go off the deep end on numerous occasions and more often than naught against any one of us."

"Caution is paramount here," Tim said. "Maybe we can get past his defences?"

"He knows all our moves, dumbass!" Damian snapped back.

"Hey! No need to get personal."

Dark Jason suddenly went after Damian.

Damian dodged and weaved the swords and then made his way to a metal staircase that led to an upper tier and a catwalk. Dark Jason followed him, leaping from the ground and landing with a heavy thud onto the metal grate. Dick knew Dark Jason most likely went after Damian because of his deep distain for the boy. Damian never stopped insulting and belittling Jason, or anyone else, in fact, and every time they met it always erupted in an argument.

This told Dick something important. That Jason was in there somewhere.

Bobbing and weaving, dodging and dogging, Damian avoided Dark Jason's attacks, the swords cutting through metal beams and railings like butter.

To Jason Damian invoked a hateful connotation. He also shared the another name for the devil. And throughout the years, neither he nor Jason ever saw eye-to-eye on anything, so there was always an aura of hostility between them—a field of electricity that could be felt whenever the two were together. This no doubt fuelled this fight.

"Keep it up, Damian!" Dick shouted, his mouth cupped into his hands.

"Easy for you say!"

Damian was pretty flexible, but not as flexible as Dick.

Dick came from a family of acrobats while Damien came from a family of assassins. While he was trained to hone his skills as a killer, some things just came natural for Dick that Damian had to really work on like flexibility. Damian had trained with his father as Robin when he left _the League of Assassins_ , but throughout the time Dick had known the boy, he had never knew him to do the leg splits. He once told Damian, once he could do that, he would truly be an equal in Dick's eyes. He awaited that day. Then his true place in the Batfamily could be cemented.

"Jason told me something in secret," Dick said, looking at the others. "When he was younger, and travelling after his resurrection, he visited to London, England, and after rescuing a gypsy from a terrible situation, separate from the one that taught him how to use the _All Caste Swords_ , but within the same distant family, the woman helped him to control and even push down his inner demons. Jason had a lot of hate towards the world. He told me if he ever got into any trouble, for whatever reason and he couldn't control himself, to recite something to immobilize him. It is similar to a magician hypnotizing a person and then putting a suggestive word or phrase into a person's subconscious, so when it is spoken they'll do exactly that. Jason told me that it was like a mantra to brainwash him into complete submission. He promised never to tell anyone about it, especially to Damian."

"I think this justifies breaking that promise, Dick," Bruce said. "What is this mantra?"

Dick looked at Damian. The boy was keeping up with Dark Jason, avoiding strike after strike, but he knew the boy would not be able to do it for long. He could see the exhaustion on Damian's face

All of a sudden Dark Jason sliced one sword through the air and Damian dropped and performed a perfect leg split on the catwalk. The sword barely missed him, but it did clip a few strands of black hair that remained in the air when Damian suddenly dropped. Damian then performed a leg sweep and knocked Jason over and onto his rear. One of the swords fell off the catwalk and landed to the ground. Then it disappeared. The moment that Jason had let go of the sword, it returned it back to whence it came. This meant Jason did not need to use as much soul power.

"Oh boy," Dick sighed. "Jason is going to kill me for this when he finds out. And I wish I _didn't_ have to recite this. I apologize to _everyone_ in advance. Here it goes…"

Dick cupped his hands around his mouth again and then shouted at the top of his lungs—words that he never thought he would ever speak openly and words his mother would wash his mouth out with soap if ever said. But it was what Jason wanted and what he knew would trigger the needed response.

These were the words of Jason's world, the street world.

Just then, Jason halted in his tracks suddenly frozen in place. The remaining _All Caste Sword_ dissolved as if a magic incantation has just rendered it inert. It returned back to Jason's soul.

Everyone looked at Dick and he could feel his face go beet red with embarrassment.

All of a sudden, he heard laughter from above. It was Jason. The _symbiant-like_ creature began to melt off him and dripped stringy strands of black bio-matter through the tiny holes of the metal crates of the catwalk to the ground. Creating a stagnant puddle of black water. The words had brought Jason back to his scenes and in control of his consciousness and facilities. The 'heart' obviously became aware of this and make a hasty retreat.

Tim rubbed his ears. "Oh my god! That was the most vile thing I've ever heard, Dick," he said.

Bruce agreed, as he looked up at Jason. Even his face flushed. "But knowing Jason, it was only something he could come up with that no one else would guess."

"Damn straight," Jason said, still snickering. "And it worked. And yet, it only works once. So, if anyone tries to say it again, you're out of luck. I only told Dick because I knew I could trust him. I told him to only use it in the most dire of circumstances. I guess this was cause for that. Good job, bro! And coming from his mouth, it was the most funniest thing I've ever heard. The Golden Boy with a dirty mouth. There's still hope for you, Dick."

"Damn you, Jay! Would you like some more choice words from my mouth?"

Damian blushed.

Jason turned and looked at Damian. "So, what's up with you sport? I'm sure you've heard words like that many times before. I'm sure Raz can swear like the dickens."

"It was disgusting! " Damian said. "And how dare you get Grayson to say something like that! Then again, you've always been a vile person. And right now, a sick exhibitionist, too. For god sake!"

Damian pointed at Jason's lower region.

Jason looked, and gasped, and put his hands down to cover himself. The Dark Heart or whatever it was had absorbed his clothes. He was naked.

"Shit! The damn thing ate my best uniform and armour!" Jason cursed. "Bruce, start-up the Batmobile's booster engine, 'cos I'm going to fry that thing to Kingdom Come!"

"At least you still have your red hood," Dick said. "You can still go out and strike evil into the hearts of men, make them change their ways, maybe even get a few phone numbers to boot." He chuckled.

"And get arrested for indecent exposure," Damian added. "But who wants to see _Dumbo?_ "

_To be continued..._


	8. Learning From One's Mistakes

Once the excitement was over, and the Dark Heart, or the goop that used to be the heart, was scooped up into a reinforced capsule vessel for further study, Dick bent over and peered at the dark liquid blob with its mysterious changeling abilities through the vessel's transparent glass. It looked like sludge.

He tapped on the glass with a nail and it moved away from him as if responding to an unlikable sound.

Jason snickered behind him a little further away as he approached dressed in some extra clothes that were in the storage locker of the Batcave. It was a loose fitting black jogging suit with a hoody; two strings hung down the front.

"I'm sure if it had ears, it would be afraid of your voice, too, Dick," Jason quipped.

Dick frowned. "I'm sure it has ears, eyes, a nose, and something else unmentionable—something I'm very tempted to kick _on you_ right now for making me recite such a ridiculous mantra," he scoffed. He turned to Jason. "Why did you have to include so many vulgar words?"

Jason laughed short. "Because I phrased it to trigger an emotional response with me. _Lessons_ learned on the street, _words_ to fit in. I was taught a lot by Talia al Ghul after she took me in after my resurrection, but the rest of life's lessons I had to learn myself. It was kill or be killed. On the streets is where the 'Red Hood' was born. I knew I could trust you with it. But after I heard those words come out of your mouth, I had to laugh. I never once heard you swear like that in all the years we known each together. It will be funny for him very long time."

Dick frowned. "I'll get you back for making me say it and in front of the others. I'm glad Barbara wasn't here to hear that. She'll be coming to the mansion after work. We're still looking for a larger apartment in the city, but in the mean time, Alfred has offered one of the Visitor Rooms for us. And don't you dare tell her what I said."

"It worked, didn't it? And don't worry about your reputation everyone still respects you. So lighten up, Dickiebird." Jason sighed. "I need a cigarette. Being temporary taken over by an alien symbiont-creature is a little stressful. For Christ's sake, the thing went straight for the kill by using the All Caste Swords and draining my soul thing had a lot of anger in it. If that's what Timmy used to feel like, he needs some serious therapy now."

Dick pointed him away from the main area to a place out of earshot of Tim. "Between you and me, I'm a little worried. Tim still has bouts of manic depression. Just last week, he and I spoke for two hours about some of the problems he has been experiencing. I would go so far as to say he's a bit bipolar."

Jason agreed. "That would explain Arkells. Tim is more sensitive than any one of us, so I wouldn't put it past him to become the future self that nearly killed us. Captain Boomerang murdered his father and he still does not have closure. Captain B has recently become an ally in our fight against some of the Rogues, but that doesn't excuse him."

"Neither have you gotten closure, Jay. Penguin killed your father and you beat the crap out of him. Bruce nearly disowned you for shooting him in the face and you spent a good time away from the rest of us while I was dealing with my crap. But we're all back together again, because we're family. No matter the strife, a family unit is the strongest connection a person has. We've had our disagreements and our screaming matches, but we got over it. You have issues with Joker. Bruce and I still have issues with each other. And Damian, well…"

"We all have issues with him," Jason finished snidely. "That little piece of—"

Arkells slammed a fist on a table in front of Bruce. They were talking at a Batarang assembly table. Pieces of Batarangs Jason cut to pieces with the _All Caste Swords_ were piled together. They would all have to melted down and reforged. Both Dick and Jason looked over. Even Tim looked up from his computer station analyzing data.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay," Arkells said, his voice carrying. "But when I fused with my supercomputer in the future to boost my IQ so I could build a time machine to come back to this time period I had no idea this" —he put a hand to his chest— "would happen! My heart problem! It's problematic, nothing more."

"You are reckless," Bruce chided. "Cyborg knows what it means to be two halves of a whole. He didn't have a choice, you did. You're too emotionally unstable right now and you need to talk to someone. Maybe Alfred can offer some piece of advise on how not to be stupid!"  
"There you go, pushing everyone's problems aside. If it's not yours, you don't give a shit!"

Tim looked away.

Dick swiped a hand across his face to nix the tyrant in earshot of Tim. Arkells being called emotionally unstable was the same as calling Tim likewise.

"I was angry, frustrated and depressed," Arkells admitted. "You should have paid better attention. It got so bad, Bruce, I wanted to die. That's why I came back through time, because I hated what I tried to do—kill my past self—and what I feared I was becoming. You know the old saying: ' _If you don't die a hero, you live long enough to see yourself become a villain'._ And I didn't want that. I'm stuck here now, I can't go back to the future. I can time jump slightly back into the past. But it's not necessary. I'm looking towards the future now. The past means nothing anymore."

"Without learning from your mistakes, you're no good to anyone, Arkells. Changing your name does nothing unless you are willing to change your outlook on life. I've tried to teach everyone that."

Arkells sighed. "I nearly caused Tim to become a quadriplegic. And now with this heart issue, I'm causing you problems again. I'm trying, Bruce. But I don't know what to do anymore?"

Tim turned back in his chair. "Arkells, you're one of us now, so don't worry about it. Things are fine now. Aren't they, Bruce?" Bruce looked at him with a look of _I-Don't-Know_. "Thanks to Professor Strange, I was cured. Case closed."

"Is it, Tim? When I was a member of the Batfamily—when I was you—I always worried about the tiniest things that could cause another person harm. Every action I took could have huge repercussions that could destroy so many lives. I doubted myself all the time which then lead me down a dark path wondering if I would be better off dead. Instead of suicide, I thought I could bury those feelings deep inside after I fused with my supercomputer. Let it take care of them. Yet, those doubts remained even after the fusion and I was worse off than I was before. That's why I went after you, myself in the past. Because I thought we would be better off dead. I was sick in the head."

"And what are your conclusions now?" Tim asked if he was a computer asking for a logical, analytical answer. "Do you still wish we were dead?"

"I'll get back to you," Arkells answered.

"Not to toot my own horn, but we all have anxieties is to deal with, Arkells," Jason spoke up, approaching. Dick walked next to him. "For example, I never know where the next crowbar is coming from."

"Not funny," Bruce scowled.

"Wasn't trying to be," Jason said with the thinnest of smirks. He knew what to say to always get under Bruce's skin, Dick observed. "I did think about switching out my costume for something a bit more punchy, sometimes a little change is good, even adding a crowbar to my arsenal, but after a tried out my new digs, _someone_ told me I looked like a ripped-off version of an old video game character villain."

Dick chuckled, finding it humorous.

Jason cleared his throat. "So, I decided to stick with what works, what's best for me, and what puts fear in the heart's of men. For I am the vengeance, I am the night…" Jason burst out laughing. "Oh man, I can never say that with a straight face. It's just so ridiculous. But I am the Red Hood—the one and only."

Dick suddenly coughed twice. "Rip off!"

Everyone knew that Jason got his name from an old moniker that the Joker used to call himself. Joker, when he was first starting out, used to call himself 'The Red Hood'. And he wore a large red tall mask along with a dramatically created ensemble.

Although it was never openly said, but hinted, Jason took the name to mock the Joker. And out of a sense of revenge for the 'Clown Prince of Crime' murdering him with a crowbar and blowing him up when he was Robin. And every chance Joker got when they met, the crackling villain would applaud Jason's look.

" _Like father like son,_ " Joker would say, laughing. " _I made you. Come to Daddy, you psycho freak!_ "

"Pfft!" Jason spat. "I make more use of the name than Joker ever did."

"It's you, Jason," Dick said. "You own it now. And there will never be another you in any form. This is why I love wearing the black and blue. I can't see myself in anything else. I tried to change it up a bit at one point with a little red, but it wasn't the same. I even wondered about white. But it wouldn't be me— _Nightwing_. And who knows what I would be like or even wearing if I was still amnesiac, even brainwashed, per se, by _The Court of the Owls_ —they would have loved to take advantage of my condition. Perhaps in some other multi-verse they did? But if Damian didn't help me regain my senses after Jake Handles tried to remove me to enact his world-domination plot, I might be wearing some sort of long trench-coat costume with a pair of goggles for style. Even sporting silly buzzcut hair-do."

Tim snickered. "I've seen that in a Japanese anime," he said. "Trust me, that's not you, Dick. I've seen old pictures of you as Robin wearing a yellow cape in those short little green speedos you used to wear, too. Frankly I can't see you in those now unless you were dancing in a nightclub as its main attention. Weren't they cold to wear?"

"Yes," both Dick and Jason said in unison. They looked at each other.

"Whoever thought green shorts was a good idea was a sadist," Dick said. He looked to Bruce, who was momentarily looking away. Dick smirked. "Anyway, I'm glad things worked out for me. Things could have been a lot worse. And I'm very thankful that I don't have some sort of split personality disorder from it. Although, every once in a while, I do get the urge to buy a cart load of brand name cereals and milk and eat them all in one sitting when I get home."

"That's you normally, Dick," Jason said. "I have a similar urge, but it with honey. But I don't necessarily eat it."

"The land of milk and honey, how quaint," Damian mocked. "Why don't you two just go get a room?"

_To be continued..._


	9. Animosity Amongst The Family

Dick and Jason looked at Damian strange. But they knew Damian was just being snarky.

"Meanwhile, getting back other things," Tim interrupted, turning back in his chair to his laptop. "I was analyzing the heart's properties again and complied a list of all the DNA markers it has exhibited so far. It stands at a hundred different nucleate of supposedly different donators to his biometrics from known and unknown sources."

"One of which is Jake Handles," Dick said. "It's so weird how that happened."

"It only takes a single cell, Dick. Like I said, think of the division of a cell like that of a virus and its replication process. Both are similar. Only when a cell fails off you, it dies. When a virus is left on a surface without being cleaned, it can sometimes live for days, weeks, or even months. In this thing, one of your cells, and Jake Handles', may have been transferred in a similar fashion, and was then incorporated into its essence. Your interaction with Arkells over the past couple of weeks, or Arkells direct contact with Handles, or any number of things, including unknown factors that Jake Handles may have come in contact with which would account for the unknowns. You can even breath in another person's cells like you can a virus. If your white blood cells don't build an army to kill it, you get sick."

"Now there's a new method of entry," Jason said.

"Just don't try to sniff my butt or I'll kick you in the nether regions again," Dick said with a smirk.

"Nah, I prefer the normal method of entry," Jason said, "and it's more fun that way, too."

"Very classy, you idiot," Damian remarked. "Can we get back to an intelligent conversion now?"

Tim snorted a laugh. "Anyway, we still have Jake Handles charred remains in storage," he said. "And we're still conducting tests on it for any unique properties. So far, we haven't found anything extraordinary. That was a nasty way to go, being burned to a crisp by the Batmobile's booster engine."

"And no one thought to bring marshmallows?" Jason said with a laugh.

Dick cupped his hips. "We should destroy that thing," he said seriously. "Why keep it? It's nothing but a burnt husk."

"Because we know Bruce likes to collect souvenirs," Jason said, gesturing to things spread throughout the cave, the unique and interesting war trophies. Like a giant dinosaur and a huge coin.

"Most of them are spoils of war from capers," Bruce said, giving Jason a narrowed gaze. "And as you know, I also have many of your old uniforms in display chambers. They are reminders of the past. A past that should not be forgotten. Jake Handles had some interesting cybernetic appendages with sophisticated nanotech, some of which we have already extracted. Biologically, his remains are stagnant, but we can still study it for more."

"You're a hoarder, Bruce. Admit it."

Bruce cocked his head. "You can say that. And I like to hoard the best things I can find. When I find something I like, I like to keep it around." Bruce looked at each one of them in turn.

There was a moment of silence.

"This is why I don't want to destroy what used to be the your heart, Arkells," Bruce then said. He knew he got his point across. "You never know what we can learn from it. If it has become fully aware, it deserves scientific study."

Arkells grumbled. "I understand what you're saying, Bruce, but it's too dangerous to keep around. I removed it from Professor Pyg's laboratory and hid in the back alley, so I could retrieve it later, safely. But I couldn't get to it with Dick, Jason, then the GCPD around. I had to hide myself inside Pyg's lab until the coast was clear, then I would have disposed it properly, like bio-hazard. Unfortunately, Dick and Jason found it before I could."

"We like to be nosey," Jason said, shrugging.

"If you ask me, and to be on the safe side," Dick said, "we've seen what it could do, so I think the heart, and Handles' remains," he repeated, "should be both destroyed. Best to err on the side of caution or risk something coming back to bite us in the butt."

"And we all know that never happens, right?" Jason jeered. "We send a criminal to jail, then the courts spit them back out like a Pez dispenser. I've lost count how many times we've played that whole rigmarole. Um, seriously, why in the hell was Professor Pyg released early? Oh, right, on good behaviour, because he became a teacher in Arkham to other prisoners; taught them about the sciences. I could teach them more. _Bull-f'ing-crap!_ That was for you, Timmy."

"Thanks, you begrimed, gardening tool," Tim replied, momentarily turning.

"Wait! Did you just call me some kind of _dirty hoe_?"

Bruce shook his head. "I think you all need to calm down and get get some fresh air," he said. "Nothing is going to be destroyed, and no one is a tool."

"Except for Damian," Jason said.

Damian growled at him.

"Damn it! You're making a big mistake, Bruce!" Arkells said, clenching his fists, then stormed off in a huff to another part of the cave.

Dick needed a breather, too. Without saying anything, he started to walk away beyond the main area, leaving Bruce, Tim, and Damian to their own devices. He shared Arkells sentiments about the heart.

Jason followed him, and wrapped an arm around Dick's shoulder, then led him out of sight to a secluded park of the cave where they would not be seen.

Dick leaned his back up against a stone wall and sighed.

"Want a cigarette?" Jason offered. "Looks of like you kind of need it."

"Sure," Dick said. He took one from Jason's cigarillo case when offered. Jason had collected the item from his motorcycle when dressing into the jogging suit. He put it in his mouth and Jason lit it with the Betty Boop lighter.

Dick breathed in and then puffed out smoke. He felt better already. "Oh, that's heavenly," he said. "Mint flavoured?"

Jason smiled, lighting his own cigarette. He sucked in and then puffed out a plume of smoke. "So, when are you going to tell the others that you smoke now? I thought you were a bit of a health nut?"

"I don't do it all the time, only when I'm feeling stressed out." Dick paused. "I have this ominous feeling, Jay. My gut tells me to destroy the heart _now_. Bruce wants to study it, but I think that's the wrong decision like Arkells. When it comes to smoking" —he looked at the cigarette— "when I was my other self, I used to smoke and drink a lot. I guess old habits die hard. When I got my memory back, I worked hard to get back to my old weight and health. But every once in a while, I need one to call my nerves. Much be the PTSD."

"Some Golden Boy," Jason said. "Next thing you'll tell me is you like to be whipped and handcuffed."

"Not on the first date, but I still have my old handcuffs from my days on the Bludhaven PD." Dick smiled.

Jason sucked in again and puffed out another plume of smoke. "Jake Handles really screwed you up, eh?"

Dick took another puff, then dropped the cigarette and crushed it beneath his boot. He felt better. "More than you know, Jay. I didn't want to tell the others, but sometimes I can almost hear the other me inside my head, as if Ric Grayson is an entirely different person, screaming at me, wanting to get out much, like Arkells heart."

"We all have a person inside us like that wanting to break free. So, you're saying, you're hear voices inside your head? Join the club."

"Jake tried to take everything away from me just to keep me quiet about his plans with the Sub-Harmonic Shock Disruptor. Almost twenty years gone with a major bout of amnesia caused by surgical implants on my left and right temporal lobes. I have faces in my head I don't recognize, but with the _other me_ I feel affection towards."

"This is uncharacteristic for you, Dick. But I'm glad you're back amongst us zombies again. It's hard to stay dead. We Batboys have a nasty knack of defeating death. It's almost like the Grim Reaper says he doesn't want us or Bruce bought him off." Jason laughed short. "I bet if Bruce and Death had a staring contest, I bet Death would lose."

"Don't be dumb, Jay. There has been unprecedented circumstances with all of us coming back."

"True, I'm still digging out slivers from my finger nails in having to dig out of my coffin."

Dick eyed him strangely. "That's morbid, Jay," he said. Jason had told him the story of having to dig out, and every time Dick thought about it, Jason being buried alive, it sent a chill down his spine.

"Okay, change of topic; something more cheery," Jason said. "Now that you and Barbara are secretly married, are you two planning on having kids?"

"Not for the immediate moment," Dick said. "Barbara's working at a new job as a magazine and fashion editor and it's a dream job for her. She once wanted to complete her police foundations courses to become a detective in her own rite, but she's put that on the back burner for now for what she really wants to do. She loves writing. And I support her. Besides, I think she's had enough crime fighting in another sense to last a lifetime. There's been no discussion in having a family, but we have been enjoying ourselves." He smiled. "Any word on when you and Roy are expecting?"

Jason coughed. He pounded his chest. "That bastard! Arkells needs to keep his big mouth shut! Look, I was drunk, and when Arkells found us, Roy explained everything. There was nothing to it."

"Isn't it every man's dream to be tied to the bed while his lover ravishes him?" Dick snickered. "But I know, Duela Dent took Roy by surprise and forced him to tie you to the bed. You were both found completely in the buff."

Jason clenched his teeth. "Nothing happened!" he said defensively. "Some women have a twisted sense of humour. Frankly, a man's junk shouldn't touch another man's junk unless it's consensual. Otherwise it's not kosher my book."

"I'm glad you said consensual. I agree with you. But you don't have to be so against it. I have a few gay friends and they look just like you and me. There's nothing wrong with the life style."

"Have you ever been curious?"

Dick mused. "I'd be lying if I hadn't thought about it. You have to admit, there are some pretty good-looking people out there, and you never know, when I was my other self I do remember doing some crazy _things_ …"

"You are a former trapeze artist, you're the most flexible guy I know—crazy is your _thing_. When you were Ric, you smoked, drank, and who knows what else." Jason shrugged. "You never know? You say you can't remember much about being Ric. Your old personality has completely reasserted itself. Ric was someone else. You're a dick."

Dick cocked his head. "Don't you mean my name is Dick?"

"Yes," Jason said. "That's what I said."

Dick waved it off. Jason _knew_ what he said and was just trying to be funny. "Don't make me think about _what ifs_ , Jay. I am Dick Grayson and I'll always be that. Barbara keeps wanting me to wear some sort of bullet-proof helmet while on patrols, but I told her that would ruin the Nightwing charm."

"You're such a pretty-boy, Dick. So many woman love you and so many guys want to be you. And I bet a few guys want to be _with_ you." Jason chuckled.

Dick rolled his eyes. "But what would Barbara say?"

"Like I said, little change does a man good," Jason quipped, opening up his cigarillo box and taking another cigarette. He lit it and blew out smoke. Dick waved it away from his face. "You kissed your friend Paul Wilson once at his night club, we were Bouncing there for an evening. Come to think of it, I never did get paid."

"Yes, I did. But Harley Quinn was threatening to cause a scene with Joker, and you know her, she's crazy. She'd do it. They were both guests at the club, Joker was even a silent partner, before we found out he was robbing Paul blind. I calmed tensions, that's what we do. The worse thing to do is escalate a situation for personal beliefs."

"It was the same with me and Roy, we have a strange relationship. If I ever swung that way, even it was for a New York Minute, well, if you're going go for it, you might we well go all out and don't go in half-cocked. It's all or nothing."

Dick rolled his eyes. "You are a bizarre guy, Jay."

"Welcome to the Batfamily, how may I serve you?" Jason said facetiously.

Jason offered his cigarillo box to Dick again. Dick declined a smoke.

_To be continued..._


	10. Death Is Merely The Beginning

That night when everyone was sleeping above ground in Wayne Manor including Jason and Arkells who were offered rooms for the night because the evening had gotten too late to travel back alone to their respective hideaways—Alfred made up some rooms— _IT_ awoke, dissolving the seemingly impregnable containment vessel that it had been stored in after it attacked one of the Wayne family members, then scooped up from the floor of the Batcave.

The _Dark Heart_ was no longer its namesake. It was now merely black sludge, yet within its liquefied state it possessed a sentient intelligence that it used to break free and move within the Batcave, inching forward. It had the ability to mimic the DNA of anyone and anything that touched it, or had come in contact with, transferring their DNA and others into a biometrics, forming a mix of everything. Now it sensed a familiar cell structure that drew it towards it—one of its previous donators and trapped with in a transparent containment capsule on a storage shelf.

Nothing but a charred husk, the sentient intelligence enveloped the capsule that it was kept in, squeezing the seal, and cracking through it. The capsule's structure was no match for it and it entered. Coveting the charred husk, it enveloped it whole, taking it into its self, and capturing its DNA and its domineering properties. It remembered this DNA and it now formed the bases of a new being.

Exiting the capsule, the liquefied essence of the once _Dark Heart_ now began to take human form. It formed bone structure and muscle tissue, constructed brain matter and neural fibres, skin, hair follicles and distinguishing features. Fully formed, humanoid and naked, it felt its face and searched for a mirror.

Finding one, it looked at its naked body and smiled at its new identity. It could feel the remnants of its former host and its nucleoli indicative to its identity profile, using it to reformat everything back to its original state of mind.

It remembered everything. The heart and the human were now body and mind, forming a symbiotic relationship.

It searched for clothes and found some, a jogging suit with a hood. It couldn't speak yet, that part of its brain had yet to rebuild its vocal capabilities, but it had formed other pathways that it used to direct its way to the Batcomputer.

It used its intelligence to hack its way into the most secure computer in the world, using the brilliance of its host, and brought up profiles of the entire Batfamily, past and present. The current and most active immediate family members included four males, including someone it knew quite well.

_He_ —no longer _it_ —read reports submitted by the individual that contained a recent encounter with a criminal named Professor Pyg, a psychopathic killer and a man who enjoyed dressing up as a pig to slaughter his victims. During this encounter, according to the report submitted, a strange mutating heart has been found an alleyway behind this villain's underground lair and brought back to the Batcave to study, along with one of the families cohorts, _Arkells_.

More information was given.

He read that the 'heart' had the ability to mutant its form and enveloped Jason Todd within a liquefied state, then used him to attack the others believing they were its enemies. It controlled Jason Todd in both body and mind until it was removed. How it was removed was not clear, but neither was it important. But the 'heart' did tell him 'special words' like a spell had been spoken that caused it to remove itself from Jason Todd. This is when it was recaptured.

"This is excellent information," he said, finding his voice. He flexed its muscles, stretched out—he was in top physical form and better then before. "I can feel my strength growing and my intelligence surpassing its limits. I'm stronger than I was before. I remember everything and who I am. And I will use it to my advantage."

He clenched his fists and laughed.

_Jake Handles is back!_

He removed the jogging suit and stood naked in the centre of the Batcave. He knew about the surveillance system and how to use prior knowledge of technology to hide his face that was now incorporated into his new state of being, one he was previously affiliated with to temporary mask his identity, swirling his face to make it look like that of a spiral. He no longer needed technology to do so. Mere thought made it happen. This 'heart' was truly remarkable.

He looked up to the highest point of the Batcave and made his way to a catwalk. He then looked down like a god upon his kingdom. But it was not his yet.

He looked upon the place, as far as he could see, and took in the Batcave as a whole, and saw a vast array of Batman's tools he used to fight crime, including the infamous Batmobile and an assemblage of other vehicles, tanks, motorcycles, planes, and more, and even the spoils of war—a giant Tyrannosaurus Rex and an oversized Joker's playing card. No doubt they were takeaways from Batman's victories.

But he took particular interest in a large coin, another trophy, and he knew it must have once belonged to one man, used in one of his capers—a man that had his ire.

Harvey 'Two-Face' Dent, a former of his partner on _Treasure Island_ that had betrayed him.

All that existed on the island would still be his to plunder that once belonged to the secret organization known a Spyral for which he was once a member if it wasn't for the man's betrayal, and Dick Grayson, Agent 37's interference, who also turned on him in a previous life.

And he almost completed a powerful sonic weapon he called the _Sub-Harmonic Shock Disruptor_ , or SHSD, that he planned to sell to the highest bidder once proper testing was conducted. But now he would have to start from scratch.

Then again… _why?_

He looked at his body and focused. His body then begin to form clothing of its own, coveting his white skin to mimic suitable arrangement for his new-found self. And he liked black. It's suited his heart and his nature.

His face was no longer burned, no longer in need of a mask to cover one side of his face after a series of bombs prematurely detonated when he battled Grayson, also causing him the loss of an arm and a leg. But none of that mattered now. He was whole again with new morphic-abilities far greater than anyone could imagine.

The knowledge of how the 'heart' came to be was given to him. It once belonged to Arkells, ironically a future Timothy Drake in an alternate timeline, who had fused with a supercomputer he built to boost his intelligence, so he could construct a time machine to go back into the past to kill himself due to a mental illness. But his future self failed.

Arkells changed, yet the 'heart' did not, and it caused Arkells great pain, forcing him to remove it. Arkells regrew another heart, but the pain and hatred that once filled him stayed with the organ. Arkells had an ability to alter his form, the supercomputer had given him this, mutating his physical prowess. Now the knowledge belonged to Jake.

_I can do anything now!_

His new life excited him and he would have to experiment with his new abilities to advance their use.

He looked at his new clothes. He could imagine anything he wanted, but right now simple was best—black tights and black boots, with a black belt with a gold buckle with the initials JH. He could come up with something more extravagant later.  
"Death comes but once in one's lifetime, but as the saying goes, _Death is merely the beginning_ ," he said. It was time to begin anew and to educate those who defied him. "I will have my revenge!"

Just then, the elevator on the ground floor dinged. It no doubt took its occupants up to Wayne Manor.

For a short moment, it looked like the elevator had malfunctioned. No one exited. But then, oddly enough, a black cat emerged. He looked at it from up high and he was curious how the cat was able to trigger the elevator's operation.

The cat sat and then licked itself, as the elevator doors closed.

He recalled a previous instance when he had been in the Batcave. He had shown Riddler/Edward Nygma and another a secret passage that led here and this elevator no doubt led to the same place—to the _Wayne Family Library_. The circumstances of how they came down here, he recalled, was when they took the mansion and its party-goers hostage during Grayson's Welcome Home bash after Grayson's shooting, which Jake had orchestrated. If it wasn't for the foul-ups of others, everything would have gone flawlessly.

But that was neither here nor there any longer.

He had an idea.

"I'll have the last laugh and kill you this time, Dick," he said to himself, "and I'll destroy everything you hold dear like I almost did before. Like you did to me!"

He generated an image in his mind and with his newfound ability he morphed into a bat. He flapped his wings and soared high, almost reaching the apex of the cave, then he pressed his wings against his side and dropped like a bird, dive-bombing the cat.

The cat jumped up scared and then ran around in a frenzy trying to avoid him. It bolted towards the elevator again, a blue light flashed from an above sensor, scanning its bio-molecular form, and then allowing it to re-enter. Jake followed it, it was his chance to make his way above ground.

Jake Handles avoided the sensor and entered the elevator unbeknownst to its artificial intelligence sensors. He used his talons to stick to the ceiling. He felt the elevator move and make it way to the upper levels, the doors opening automatically. The cat bolted out and Jake Handles followed, flapping his wings, watching the cat leave through an ajar door. This may or may not have been how the cat was able to access the elevator in the first place.

It did not matter, the cat had helped him enter his prey's lair and that's all that was needed.

Morphing back to his human form, he stood in the middle of the _Wayne Family Library_ , and partook in all its magnificence and grandeur and all its rare books. This is where Riddler found a book from his youth that he had searched for years to find and then took it to add it to his prized collection of novelties.

He had no idea where the book ended up after their attempted failed coop of their dominance over the Wayne family, and neither did he care. He was inside the manor now.

It was dark and everyone was sleeping.

It was the perfect time to call on an ally who had helped him in the past. And who that aided him before, before his efforts all came crumbling down. But it wasn't his fault, he did his part. And he would be useful again.

He looked around for a mirror and found one that dropped almost to the floor. A tall rectangular one with a thin wooden frame just off the main seating area. It was no doubt placed there just in case someone wanted to admire their vainness. And for the members of this household, that was it given.

Here, he pricked his finger using a sharp nail and drew blood on its surface. He formed the letters MM. It was a signal for the man those letters they stood for to come and who resided in a universe adjacent to this one.

Moments passed and he waited patiently for his summons to be acknowledged.

Suddenly, a hand reached out from the mirror followed by a fully formed arm, then a leg, and finally a person wearing yellow and green tights with a mask.

Mirror Master stretched his arms wide when he was fully out. "It is so good to flex my muscles out here in the real world," he said. "Thanks to your technology, Handles, I can stay a lot longer, generated by photo-kinetic copies."

"I'm glad you've put the technology to good use," Jake Handles said.

Mirror Master cocked his head. "I'm surprised to hear from you. We set this back-up plan in place just in case, but after what I witnessed in the 'mirror-verse', I thought you were dead? Burned to death by the Batmobilie's booster engine." He chuckled to himself. "Anyone for fried chicken?"

Jake Handles gave him a narrow glare. "Death is merely the beginning," he said, repeating a previous statement. "Brand new horizons are forthcoming and if you choose to be a part of it, give me your allegiance."

Mirror Master bowed like member of a King's Court. "Undoubtedly, Sire," he said chuckling; he rose. "So, give me the lowdown on what happened with your plan? I wasn't privy to all of it, just the latter half."

"Fair enough," Jake said, and for the next couple of minutes told Scudder everything that took place with Nightwing's assassination plot, the events that happened on Treasure Island, those that were involved, and what happened down in the Batcave that unfortunately resulted and his ultimate demise.

Mirror Master said that he had watched 'the latter half' from the 'mirror verse' after he escaped through one of the Ballroom guest's make-up compact mirrors when his part of the plan had come to an end—replacing guests at the party with Ridder's thugs using Jake Handles photo-kinetic technology and using his mirror magic to send the actual invited away where they would not be a bother or call the police. He returned them eventually.

Scudder snapped his fingers in delight. "It all makes sense and no wonder you wanted to meet here. Every single superhero I've ever tangled within the Batfamily, even associated with them—their identities are now mine!" He shouted gleefully a little too loudly. "Even _The Flash!_ "

"Quiet, you idiot, or someone will hear us."

"But I feel Flash 's identity no longer in dispute. I suspected such for a long time, but couldn't prove anything even though I have mirrors everywhere. He was too quick for me, blurred his face, for me to get a clear picture. Well, well… _The Flash_ is none other than that annoying pseudo detective and scientist that works hand-in-hand with the Central City Police Department. Wally West is my arch enemy _The Flash_. Come to think of it, the Trickster mentioned something about it, but he's such a delusional man I couldn't believe him. Oh, glorious!"

"Now that you've basked in your glorious new found knowledge," Jake said, "it is time for our preparations to proceed. Your participation in this plan cements an opportunity to take revenge on your enemy, as well as it does mine. This is why I called you to finish what I started and to destroy my old friend Dick Grayson once and for all!"

"And what a pleasure it will be to end the lives of our rivals," Scudder smiled malevolently. "Conversely, you look good, Jake. I just wanted to say that. The last time I saw you, you looked like something written out of the Andrew Lloyd Webber's _The Phantom of the Opera._ Masks are so last century, and the only reason why I wear one is because it looks cool. I'm the type of person who has a tremendous fashion sense." He chuckled under his breath. Jake rolled his eyes. "You know my secret identity, but let's keep it between you and I. The pseudonym Mirror Master generates fear in the hearts of the brave and the feeble-minded, my real name, Sam Scudder, does not."

Jake nodded. "Let's get started," he said.

_To be continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you'd like to know more about the OC of Jake Handles, please read Nightwing Junior.


	11. Sneak Attack

Since becoming trapped in the 'mirror verse', living in a world that only looked upon the rest was frustrating.

Mirror Master, Sam Scudder, had the ability to pop out of any mirror or reflective surface in the world using them as gateways, but until recently, he could only do it for a brief amount of time until he acquired new technology thanks to Jake Handles. He could make photo-kinetic copies of himself and increase his time in the real world, which was now incorporated into a small device embedded into the thumb of his right glove as long as he had a mirror or other reflective service to use.

Within pouches of his utility belt, he had a collection of mirrors that he could use to make his PK copies, so if he chose to, he could remain in the real world indefinitely.

Right now, he had a job to do. He was told to trap the entire Wayne Family in the 'mirror verse', until Handles was ready for them. It was best to get them out of the way, so they weren't pests to interfere in Handles' plans. Handles was elsewhere doing so.

And Scudder's first step along the way was Dick Grayson's room. He was instructed to remove Grayson first before moving on to the rest, so he could witness the ultimate destruction of everything that would come.

Using stealth, he sneaked through a mirror on the wall that faced the bed where Grayson and Barbara Gordon slept, and stepped quietly to the floor. If Jake didn't tell him that they weren't a couple, it would be scandalous. The adopted first son of Gotham's former Playboy sleeping with a daughter of the police commissioner— _Wow_ , he thought.

As he stood at the edge of the bed, watching them sleep in each other's arms, he couldn't help but admire how beautiful Barbara Gordon looked with her red hair all the mess. She looked wild and sexy and she was just his type. He wondered after he trapped Grayson, if he should trap her in another way.

It got lonely in the 'mirror-verse'.

It has been some time since he had touched a _real_ woman, all he had were his mirror constructs that relented to his every whim. But they acted like mannequins and they were no fun, there was no passion. He wanted something more. He took images from real people and incorporated them into a perfect reflection of what he wanted, but he could not duplicate their personalities or mannerisms and overtime he got bored of repetitiveness.

Barbara Gordon was gorgeous and he liked red heads. It wasn't the first time he had admired her from afar, but this was the first time he got this close to her and he wasn't going to let it pass him by.

He stepped closer in the dark and readied his Mirror Gun taking it out of his right holster hip. He modified the settings on a digital readout after he put in a password. He set it to copy her image, so he could take it back to the 'mirror-verse'. He knew if he forced himself upon her to start to take her to the 'mirror-verse', Grayson would fight back. So, he decided to take a copy of her. Just in case he couldn't have the real thing, a copy was the next best thing. Grayson would not be the wiser that a mirror image of his sweetheart would be Mirror Master's to play with.

He tilted his head slightly to get a better view of the sheets partially exposing Barbara Gordon breasts. He licked his lips with excitement and his tights became a little tighter. She was such a beautiful woman. Dick Grayson was so lucky.  
Sam Scudder stepped back and tried to control his lustful thoughts. If he wanted a copy of her image, then he had to get one quickly before she woke up. He pointed the gun at her and fired to capture an image.

But the moment his beam hit her, her image fluttered and his Mirror Gun beeped displaying an error. He looked at the digital readout, then tried again. Once more, he received an error message as if the image he was trying to copy was not an original. His gun could only copy original constructs. Trying to copy from a copy distorted the image and created errors.  
He went over to her side of the bed and put his hand on her, but instead of his hand touching an actual person, it dropped through a projected image, not only Barbara Gordon but also Dick Grayson. They were fakes.

"What in the world?"

A lighting streak of red zig-zagged in the room, then he was punched in the face and knocked down. He looked up, and saw The Flash standing over him with his hands on his hips looking as arrogant as ever. He had that smirk on his face as if to say _I'm better than you_.

"Damn it!" Scudder said. "How the hell did you know I was here, Flash?"

"Watch your language, Sam," Flash said. "And you should know by now, that every time you step out of a mirror, I know about it. Besides, where do you think you are? Do you think this place doesn't have sensors to detect unauthorized persons?"

"You've always been a goody two-shoes, Flash, or shall I say Wally West?" Scudder stood in his feet, smiling, knowing that he had the upper hand. Wally West/Flash wasn't smiling anymore with his secret identity exposed. "I now know who you are, West. And if I tell the rest of the Rogues, you'll never be able to hide."

Flash then smirked. "And that means what, exactly? You're going to tell everyone? Everyone knows you have delusions of grandeur, Sam. You would sell your own grandmother to get in tight with the rest of the Rogues. You've been known to concoct things to elevate your status. You're on the same level as the Trickster in fabricating truths. You need some serious therapy, Sam."

Sam Scudder frowned.

Yes, he was known for exaggerating the truth. Captain Cold once threatened to ice him for telling so many lies. His pseudonym was the Mirror Master and sometimes being trapped in the 'mirror-verse' had an adverse effect on his psyche. And often he didn't know what he was saying, but he didn't believe he was a habitual lair—everything in the 'mirror-verse' was the exact opposite of reality.

Sam growled upset.

Flash quickly snatched the Mirror Gun from his hand. It was so fast that Sam didn't have time to blink. It wasn't like he was going to use it. The speedster was beyond his own agility.

"What's going on here?" He pointed to the projected image in the bed, a holograph. "And how the heck was this set up so fast?"

Flash gestured proudly. "C'mon, Sam; Wayne Manor has a state-of-the-art surveillance system and safeguards to protect those here. The moment you were picked up, the face recognition software immediately notified _me_. Because, well, you're my jurisdiction. So, here we are. Are you going to tell me why you are here? Or, do I need to beat it out of you? You break a mirror, you get seven years bad luck. With your track record, you'll get seven years in prison. It's a reflection of the poor choices you make."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Cute, always with the wise cracks," he said. "Nightwing, or should I say Dick Grayson—you two are two peas in a pod, a typical bromance these days—just love to make jokes. Did you to go to the same clown college?"  
Dick Grayson stepped out of the on-suite bathroom, Barbara Gordon was behind him. "They say humour is the best medicine, Mirror Master," he said. "Flash is like a brother to me. And if you call us clowns, then that's a compliment. I come from a family of circus performers, and let me tell you I've known some of the best and cleverest clowns in the world. And just for the record, Wayne Manor may have a state-of-the-art surveillance system, but nothing beats _The Flash_."

Flash smiled broadly.

"Tim can use the erasure drug on Mirror Master, so he won't remember our identities," Barbara said. "But before that, we want answers. First, why are you here, Mirror Master? And second, we know you're not working alone. Surveillance has captured an image of your partner, but he seems to be able to mask his identity in some way?"

Sam produced a crooked smirk. "Nice try, sweetheart," he said, and noticed Dick Grayson frown when he addressed her disrespectfully. "I'm not a rat, but he does have plans for your boyfriend. Big plans!"

"Dick! Wally! Watch out! He's going for his belt!" Barbara shouted.

Sam quickly reached into one of his belt pouches for a collection of mini mirrors. He managed to take out three and touched them with the thumb go his right glove to make photo-kinetic copies of himself. A mere touch thanks to Jake Handles technology was all that was needed, now there was now four of him. One mirror for one each copy, three plus the original. "Which one am I, Flash?" Mirror Master's voice echoed as each one of him spoke in unison.

But this was mere distraction and Sam directed his copies to attack. They were solid enough to look real. He ordered them to attack Dick Grayson and Barbara Gordon. This made _Flash_ jump into action.

When Flash did that, Sam quickly, using the opportunity, snatched his Mirror Gun away from his arch-rival.

This surprised Flash, and when he looked back, Scudder had his gun pointed directly at Dick Grayson and Barbara Gordon. He pulled the trigger before Flash could stop him, and a blast of energy hit them both—destroying the carbon copies. Yet they were expendable and it was all part of his plan.

Dick Grayson and Barbara Gordon vanished in a brilliant flash of light.

Flash gasped showed, then ran and grabbed Mirror Master by his shirt. Sam laughed. He did exactly what Jake Handles wanted and there was nothing Flash could do about it now.

"Where?" Flash demanded, his teeth clenched angrily. "Where did you send them, Sam?"

Sam Scudder laughed. "To a place you can't go, Flash—to a world beyond this one. Good luck in getting them back!"

_To be continued..._


	12. The Big Reveal

Dick blinked. He and Barbara suddenly found themselves in another place.

It was bright, but there was nothing around them except for empty space with a mysterious fog. When they looked at the other, however, they were completely naked. The last thing they had on were their sleeping attire.

They had just been in their bedroom in Wayne Manor facing off against Mirror Master with Wally, then they then were here. The Manor's surveillance system had caught Mirror Master's activity and they were alerted.

Dick then informed Wally, who quickly ran over. How Wally tracked his own 'Rogues' was his business, but Bruce did give Wally limited access to Batcomputer for just such an occasion.

And yet, Dick was already up before the alert came in because he had had a night terror and Barbara was helping him in the on-suite bathroom getting his medicine. He was also shaking. He kept reliving all the times he couldn't save a victim of a terrible tragedy caused by one of Batman's enemies. He even started to cry.

The one good thing about having amnesia was he didn't have the nightmares, but as soon as he got his full memories back, within days, his night terrors returned. And there was nothing he could do about them. They were apart of him.

Dick recalled what had had just happened. Mirror Master had blasted them with his Mirror Gun, sending them to this place—wherever it was. But was this the 'mirror verse', or somewhere else?

Barbara covered herself with one arm across her breasts and also shielded below. She turned red with embarrassment.

Dick raised his eyebrows. "Honey, Barbara," he began, "I don't know where we are or why we have no clothes, but it's not like I haven't seen you naked before. We're married now. You don't need to hide from me. Wherever we are, I'll protect you. We seem to be alone? But there's a strange fog all around us. I can't see anything beyond it."

Barbara nodded, his words easing her. She was about to release her guard when she looked over Dick's shoulder. Dick looked around and Barbara followed his glance.

Harvey Two-Face sat on a white rock of some sort that blended in with a brightness of where they were. He was also naked as a jailbird. The fog must have lifted in that part and revealed him. Dick figured the same must have been with them for him.

The villain glared lustfully at Barbara. The left side of his face, burned with a heavy dose of acid by a crime boss he was cross-examining when he was a Gotham City District Attorney, gleamed with a smile, exhibit bright white teeth. The thing that he had that belonged to him was his lucky coin. One side was normal, the other side was butchered to hell just like the left side of his face.

Harvey Two-Face was a muscular man without his clothes. He may have looked like a monster with his face, but his body was one to be admired for an older man in his early forties. The villain kept in good shape between criminal enterprises. Harvey looked straight at them with one leg crossed over a knee. At least he had respect enough to mask his own dignity.

Dick turned his back on the villain to shield Barbara's own. He didn't care much for his own nakedness, his only thought was of her. He saw how the villain was looking at her and he didn't like it.

"What the hell, Harvey?" Dick said perturbed. "I don't know what's happening, but stop leering lecherously at my wife."

Harvey flipped his coin and caught it. He didn't look at it, his eyes were clearly zoned in on Barbara. No doubt, he didn't need his coin to see that he was indubitably the luckiest man in the world at the moment.

"Shove it, Grayson," Harvey spoke in his throaty, gruff voice. "I have no idea why I am here either. One moment I was in my lair plotting my greatest scheme against the Caped Crusader, the next thing I find I'm au natural in this god-forsaken place. It's too bright here, I like dark places. Hey, Mrs. Grayson, wanna real man? Your new husband is nothing but a high-flying pansy. I love a good cigar when I can find one, and I bet you do too?" He chuckled an implied sexual innuendo.

Dick grit his teeth. Harvey Two-Face had partnered with Jake Handles on Treasure Island in a scheme for world domination, but it failed and he escaped capture. He was also one of Batman's most devious foes, but that didn't mean he could say what he wanted.

Barbara stopped Dick when he went to retaliate.

"No Dick, he's only trying to antagonize you," she said. "He's unsure of things, as we are, and he wants to dominate the situation. Remember, as a former district attorney that's what he did professionally in the courtroom. He uses fear now to get the upper hand because of his face. Don't fall for his tricks. Stay calm. We're at a disadvantage here, too. The scope of things is unclear."

Dick nodded. Her words brought his heated emotions down.

"Do you really think I have any sort of upper hand here, Mrs. Grayson?" Harvey grinned suspiciously. "And besides, if I did try something, two against one are bad odds. I know when to pick a fight and right now is not the right time. I'm not at my best."

"Just don't do a Sharon Stone impression, that's all I ask," Dick said.

"I've seen Basic Instinct, Grayson, and trust me, if I did uncross my legs in a suggestive manner, you may be served with divorce papers. I know Gordon wanting a real man." Harvey produced a throaty chuckle. "I've seen your moves, Grayson. I even took in one of your shows when you were with the _Flying Grayson's_ when I was normal and younger to get to know a client." Harvey looked Grayson up and down. "But seeing you now, even with all that muscle, I'd wipe the floor with your pretty little face."

"Oh, yeah? You want to fight, Harvey? I'd take you on!"

Dick tensed, but Barbara pulled him closer to prevent him from doing anything stupid.

"Enough! Both of you! You're like two peacocks fluttering their plumage seeing who is the most stringent," she said, giving Dick a straight stare of _be quiet_. "We have to find out where we are and _why_ we are here. That is our top priority. No fighting!"

"Sound advise," suddenly came a voice from the distance.

Then an image began to appear from within a fog. It was obvious that whoever it was had masked their appearance until the perfect moment to reveal themselves, the same method used to momentarily hide Harvey Two-Face from Dick's initial sight.

A person approached with a face that was swirled out, consisted of technology only used by the organization Sypral to hide an agent's identity. Dick knew it well, having used the technology himself.

The person, male, was dressed all in black from collar to boots. But he did have a strange belt bucket with the initial JH in gold.

He stopped and stood at a safe distance of the trio and seemed to take special notice of Barbara. He looked at her, and Dick could sense that he was eying her with a disingenuous stare even through the spiralled face.

The man whistled. "Nice, Barbara Gordon," he said. "You look absolutely scrumptious, and you're looking well, too, Dick. Don't get nervous when a man compliments another man. After all, this isn't the first time I've seen you baring it all."

_Whoever this man is, had he been secretly spying on me?_

"Who the hell are you?" Harvey demanded, he went to get up.

The man put up a hand, and said, "Harvey, please don't get up. You wouldn't want to give Mrs. Gordon-Grayson a fright, or Dick another night terror."

Dick gasped. How did this person know about his night terrors and that they were married and that Barbara hyphenated her name? She wanted to keep her surname because it was her adopted father's. Commissioner Gordon was not her real father, later learned. However, she did have a half-brother, who was her father's biological son. Her family ancestry was a bit of a mess, but Dick didn't care. He had always loved Barbara from the very moment he laid eyes on her and he knew one day he would marry her.

"Who are you?" Dick then asked insistently. "And what is this place? Why have you brought us here? You seem to know who I am, and a lot about us, but I don't know you. You're using Spyral technology to hide your identity, that I do know. Why don't you reveal yourself? It's not like we can go anywhere?"

"If you want, Dick, this place can be your everlasting tomb," the man replied straightly, "and just like Jason Todd, it will take you forever to dig yourself out of your grave, or never at all."

_Jesus Christ! Dick swore. He knows about Jason, too? Who the hell is this guy?_

"You're in a world of my design," the other continued. "I can craft it to be anything I choose. Its similar to Mirror Master's 'mirror-verse', but it's in an alternative dimension that I showed Scudder how to access to bring you all here. And I'm in complete control of it. No one enters or leaves unless I wish it. Whatever I say goes, and nothing happens here unless I allow it. If you truly want to know who I am, then allow me to show you the man behind the curtain, and the great and powerful Oz."

Suddenly, the man's face swirled, the technology disabled. Dick Grayson couldn't believe it. "Jake Handles? You're alive?"

"For Christ's sake!" Harvey cursed. He didn't get up, but the villain stared at Jake Handles with an unwavering awe. "How the hell did you survive? The last I heard you did a Peter Pan down a deep gorge on Treasure Island before the mountain blew its top!"

Jake Handles looked at him. "Old news, Harvey, and I didn't die, I escaped using a mini submarine I had stashed away in an underwater canal system. Thanks to you, the island was destroyed when you set the self destruct mechanism when you betrayed me, destroying the entire Spyral weapons depot left behind after the organization was dismantled, destroyed by Agent 37, when he staged a coop and defeated its leader codenamed: 'Mother'. You could have had everything, Harvey, and you could have been part of something special, but you choose your pride over power and fled like a coward when things started to go awry."

Jake looked at Dick. "I always have a back-up plan. That's what they taught us at Spyral, isn't that right, Dick? When Plan 'A' and 'B' fail, have a Plan 'C'. Sometimes it seemed that we agents had nine lives like cats, but we're just prepared for all eventualities. And that's where Mirror Master came in. Just in case of yet another eventuality of something else going wrong in joining up with Riddler to regain what I lost, taking Wayne Manor and its guests at your celebratory welcome home party hostage, seizing control of the Batcomputer to recreating my Sub-Harmonic Shock Disrupter, I make plans with Mirror Master to provide me with an avenue of escape. But then you got involved yet again and spoiled everything!"

"You've always been a sore loser, Jake," Dick said. "You were burned up to a crisp from the Batmobile's booster engine. Your body was charred down to a small husk when the flames finally died down. How are you alive?"

"Wait! Wayne Manor? Batcomputer? Batmobile?" Harvey said in succession. He grinned banefully. "So, we have the infamous Nightwing and Batgirl here. Do you know how much money I could make if I sold your secret identities on the black market?"

"I've been in that situation before," Dick said, recalling when his secret identity had been revealed which forced him to fake his own death, then he joined Spyral on Bruce's advise so he could investigate the shadowy organization. Bruce had said Spyral, which was a government body, had risen some red flags, when they began to conduct covert operations of a suspicious and nefarious nature that caused the deaths of some prominent people. He wanted someone he could trust on the inside to smoke them out.

Harvey grunted. "Hey, Handles," he began, "I can understand why you want the kid, simple revenge in my book. He did something to you and now you want him to pay. But why do you have a grudge against me?"

Dick rolled his eyes. He still had his back turned towards Harvey to shield Barbara, his ass as bare as a baboon, but he had his head cocked. "For a former District Attorney, Harvey, you're a little slow. He just told you the reason. You betrayed him. You may have escaped Treasure Island, but obviously Jake in cahoots with Mirror Master knew where to find you to bring you here. Jake is out for revenge on both of us. But it's a pretty perverted thing to do to take our clothes."

Jake smiled, taking another look at the Barbara. She pushed further into Dick's body, he wrapped his arms around her.  
"That's the beauty of it, Dick," Jake said with a wide smile. "A person is at their most vulnerable in a compromised state. As Agent 37, you got down and dirty like the rest of us using people to get what you wanted. Don't you remember that Swiss Heiress? You used everything in your arsenal to woo her and she eventually succumb to your charms, but she still wouldn't go to bed with you."

Dick's eyes widened. He looked at Barbara. "She meant nothing, honey. I was just doing my job at the time. I swear."

Barbara smiled thinly. "I know, sweetheart. Let's move on."

"How very forgiving of you, Barbara, you are a rare breed of woman, indeed," Jake said. "Nevertheless, you may have figured it out my scheme, Dick, you were always a quick study, but now you'll pay the price of your betrayal!"

"You turned your back on me, Jake. You had your own ambitions and you paid the price. I have no regrets for what I had to do. And if I had to do it over again, I would make sure I rummaged through all the brick-and-mortar of that building that fell on top of you in the aftermath of the explosion that your people prematurely detonated due to faulty timers to make sure you were actually dead!"

Jake smirked, but did not retort. "You are a man of my own heart, Dick," he said, then padded his chest, "which incidentally, thanks to your inquisitive personality, gave me new life, and, of course, I can't forget the contribution of your new friend."

Dick cocked an eyebrow. He didn't understand what Jake meant by that.

"As for Harvey, he is nothing but a dumb thug from a bygone era." Jake turned to Harvey. "It's no longer the _Roaring '30s_ , Al. Time to get into the _twenty-first century_ , Harvey."

Harvey Two-Face growled under his breath. The comparison to him and the Chicago gangster Al Capone was apparent. He flipped his coin and then caught it. Opening up his hand, he looked at it and smiled with a sinister grin of pure evil.

"Thanks for the compliment, scumbag," Harvey said.

_To be continued..._


	13. The Power of Positivie Thinking

Harvey Two-Face squeezed his coin tightly. He had just smiled evilly, Dick noticed, but he knew the villain was that a huge disadvantage if this was Jake Handles world, an adjacent universe of the 'mirror-verse' that Mirror Master inhabited. A mirror-mirror-verse, so to speak.

"You idiot," Harvey said. "You're not much of a historian. You're one decade off with the 'roaring' reference. Try ten years prior. The 'Roaring Twenties' was a decade of economic growth and widespread prosperity, driven by recovery from wartime devastation, and deferred spending, a boom in construction, with rapid growth after the first world war. Al Capone may have been a gangster and bootlegger, in the 1930s, when the Great Depression took place, culminating the beginning of the Second World War, but he was empathic to a certain degree, helping many people by opening up soup kitchens to feed the hungry when they were down on their luck. I'm not saint by any stretch of the imagination, but if you're going to insult someone at least I get your facts straight."

Handles frowned. Dick smiled to himself with Harvey's retort. Jake's comment that he also some dumb thug also came back to bite him. Dent was a smart man, even though he used his intelligence for crime.

"So, powder puff, what's up now? Are you going to keep us waiting on what you have planned for us? Or are we going to have to play twenty questions? At the very least give us some clothes for god's sake! There's only so long I can keep Daddy Dent from making a personal appearance with the commishes daughter standing right there flaunting her voluptuousness."

Harvey looked at Barbara again and smiled crookedly like a perverted older man.

Any respect Dick had for Harvey for standing up to Jake just went out the window. He once again positioned himself to cover Barbara as much as he could. "You come anywhere near her, Dent, and I swear all shove that coin so far down your throat, you'll beg for a laxative," Dick said.

"I prefer a little deep throat from sweet cheeks instead," Harvey chuckled throaty. Showing his coin, he then said, "Tails, I get some, and Heads, she gets some."

Suddenly, Jake Handles delivered a hard back slap to Harvey's face knocking him over to the ground. Harvey fell on his front with his rear up in the air. Jake shoved him with a foot, pressing Harvey flat. He then took Harvey's coin. "You'll get this back when you can be more civilized, Harvey," Jake said, almost benignly.

Harvey looked back and growled. He covered up as he got to a sitting position.

Handles looked back to Dick. Dick eyed his former teammate in Spyral. "I apologize for the brute, Dick. The man's a roube, a callus cretin, and he deserves to be knocked down a peg. He's one of the old stock that needs to learn that the future belongs to the young, but I do understand him. Barbara Gordon, you are quite a beautiful woman, and Dick has always had the tremendous respect for you. In the time that I knew him as a friend and confidant, he said he always longed to return to you. He hated not being able to be by your side and he told me so many wonderful an exciting stories when you two were younger, before the whole branching out as Nightwing. He once told me that he thought of the both of you like baby birds coming in on their own."

Dick blushed, but Barbara smiled. "That's sweet, Dick," she said.

"You are a victim in all this, Barbara," Jake said. "I only wanted to trap Dick and Harvey Two-Face and to make them pay for their past and gregarious transgressions against me. The two of them will be subjected to untold suffering for what they did. Unfortunately, as in our business, there will always be collateral damage."

"Like I said to Harvey, Jake," Dick said. "If you come anywhere near Barbara, I'll kill you. Forget about Batman's rule."

Jake cocked his head. "No need to be so overly dramatic, Dick. Once a performer, always a performer, eh? I bet you would be a wonderful drama teacher." He chuckled. "You used to entertain crowds of screaming fans in a circus until a mishap took your family. Your family was caught in the middle of a mob turf war and paid the price. You always liked being the centre of attention. I've watched videos of your performances when you were a kid, you enjoyed flying high, just like you do as Nightwing."

"What's your point?"

"My point is this is your last performance, but I'll give you and Harvey a sporting chance. This is my world, and as I said it responds to me and my thoughts." He spread his arms wide like an eagle or a god. "I am Jake Handles, a god of a new world! Anything I can conceive here is mine for the making or the taking. It may seem like a blank world right now, but just wait until I get going. Damian Wayne experienced my photo-kinetic box on Treasure Island, he was trapped in there for quite some time, and this world is driven with a similar base. And thanks to Arkells' heart, once I'm finished here the world will be mine for the plundering!"

Jake laughed, then snapped his fingers. In the blink of an eye, he vanished. It was his world, after all.

"Heart? Arkells's heart is inside you?" Dick started to say.

Dick quickly thought back. The dark heart's regression into a liquid form with a seemingly sentient intelligence thats for a brief time overpowered Jason. If it had escaped the containment vessel that Tim had put it in and then found Jake's charred remains and bonded with it, then things were began to make sense. The odds of that happening was astronomical, and yet Tim did learn that the 'heart' did possess Jake Handles' DNA within its nuclei. Perhaps it had been drawn to Jake's remains by some 'scent'?

Dick look around, he knew and Barbara were in trouble. He turned to her. "It's okay, we've gotten through tougher spots before and we've come out of them together," he said. "Whatever Jake throws at us, will face it head-on, and win."

"You're such an optimist, Grayson," Harvey said, hiding his nether regions in dignified manner with his arms

. "The damn fool took my coin. That was my father's lucky charm. He gave it to me when I first started out in law."

"You can't make a reasonable decision without it, can you, Harvey?" Dick responded. "You better learn. You have borderline personality disorder, but you can still function even with your two halves."

"And do what, exactly? Huh? Does he want us to fight like ancient Roman gladiators, sweat and blood glistening on her naked flesh until one of us falls at the other's feet?" Harvey cocked his head and looked at Barbara? "On second thought, let's do it. No holds barred, and the winner gets Gordon. I need to blow off some steam now anyway."

"Dream on," Dick scoffed. Then he had a thought. "Jake said this was his world, not unlike the 'mirror verse', but without mirrors, and this place reacts to one's thoughts. Jake was once a member of Spyral, before he turned. He's smart and he knows a lot of tricks. Let me think back, I know he left us a clue. That's it: _the power of thought_."

"And what, Ol' Wise One behind the curtain, do you mean?"

Dick didn't say anything immediately. He wasn't sure. He took a moment to think and then made a wish in his mind.

Suddenly, his projected thoughts came true. His Nightwing costume came into existence by the power of thinking it, and lay sprawled in a heap on the ground nearby. He smiled at Barbara, who then shared a similar thought, and her Batgirl costume was wished into existence next to Dick's.

"What the hell?" Harvey said bewildered and shocked. "How'd you do that?"

"The power of positive thinking can do wonders, Harvey," Dick said with a smile. "You should try it sometime. It was what Jake was trying to tell use, and what he meant about giving us a sporting chance. Although I think this is only half of it. He knew I would figure it out. We were teammates for a time and we used to think as one mind. We shared similar traits. Thing is, I don't lust for power."

"Then you're a fool. With your skills, you could have the world."

Dick's brow rose. It was a nice compliment, but only that.

Dick and Barbara shuffled towards their clothes and Dick continued to shield her from Harvey's leering gaze, crouching together to pick up their uniforms. Barbara covered herself as Dick quickly slipped on his bottom tights. He finished fully after Barbara was dressed using his top to cover her nakedness. Of course, he looked.

Now fully donned in there uniforms including gloves and boots, minus their masks, because there was no need of them, Harvey joined them, imagining his own desired attire.

His was a bit more flashy. It was an eclectic dress suit with a jacket covered half of ivory white and the other of fuchsia pink, sparkling with diamonds, white dress shirt and black tie. His pants were a criss-cross of the same colours, white replacing fuchsia pink and vice versa. He finished it off with black dress shoes.

Harvey straightened his tie.

"Always a classy dresser, huh, Harvey?" Dick said.

"One of us has to, at least," Harvey replied; "You bozos and your skimpy tights. Don't you have any decency? You're always one step away from stripping that at a nightclub. I mean, you can see everything; nothing is left to the imagination. So, gay."

Dick clenched his teeth. He took one step forward, but Barbara grabbed his arm and stopped him. "Dick…don't. He's trying to bait you again. You can say whatever you want, Harvey." Barbara looked at the villain. "We wear these costumes to intimidate villains and we have to stay in tip-top shape so we can do our job. Tights are flexible, they're not cumbersome, and there's nothing for a crook to grab onto. They may be skin tight and quite revealing…" —She gave Dick an affectionate soft squeeze on the butt out of Harvey's sight, Dick felt it but didn't react— "…but they work for our purposes."

"Damn fruity-tooty to me," Harvey said. He adjusted the lapels of his jacket. "Give me a double-breasted suit any day, more professional and stylish for today's man. Looks are important."

Dick paused. "Have you looked in a mirror lately, Harvey?" he mocked. "And if I wore what you do, I'd die from embarrassment. I like free-style clothing. I like to fly like a bird with the wind in my hair. I don't care about what I'm wearing or what people think." _But I do get upset when people mock other people's life choices and label them in a hateful and disrespectful manner. Jake was right about Harvey being old school._ "I was once known as Robin for a reason, and for the record, Batman didn't pick the name for me. I choose it. After my parents died, I was told by a fellow circus performer that when I was up high on the trapeze, I soared gracefully like a robin. And throughout the years, I've taken that to heart. And now this Robin has found his soulmate." He looked and smiled at Barbara. She grabbed his hand and held it.

"Together, forever," they said in unison.

Dick looked back. "Tell me, Harvey, how many times have I soared in and kick your but? Dozens? Hundreds? I've lost count. So, mock me all you want. I often find those who ridicule others are lacking something. And besides, you have small feet."

Barbara snickered.

Harvey look down. "Oh, trying to be funny, eh? I caught that inside crack. Small feet, small namesake, eh? How many times have you are mocked for your name in school, huh, Dickie boy?"

Dick frowned. He had tried to be smart and get out a wise crack to ease his own tension, but the villain had turned it around.

"Before I had my accident with the acid," Harvey began, gesturing to his face, "I bet I had got more _tail_ than you will ever see. When I was a district attorney I got more than Lewinsky than Clinton."

Harvey chuckled, but Dick was appalled. He understood the historical reference to a former United States president who had sexual relations with his secretary. But to Dick, it was quality over quantity. Some people could love more than one person, as he had done. But Barbara was his number one and would always will be.

Just then, Harvey Two-Face grinned sinisterly. "You know, I just had a brilliant idea. If it works for clothes, then why not other things?"  
Dick cocked his head.

All of a sudden, Harvey placed his arms and hands to bear as if he was holding , he brought a gun into existence with the power of his mind. It was an M1 Thompson submachine Tommy Gun, commonly used by old-time gangsters.

Dick gasped.

"You're right, Grayson," Harvey said pleased,gruffly. "The power of positive thinking is a wonderful thing. Thank you for inspiring me. Now it will be your undoing."

And the villain then brought the weapon to bear upon the heroes.

_To be continued..._


	14. Last Request

Harvey Two-Face laughed like a crazed lunatic as he fired the Tommy Gun at Dick and Barbara. Dick held onto to Barbara's hand as the pair ran as fast as they could possibly go just ahead of the bullets in circles around the villain. Harvey turned quickly firing at them, but Dick and Barbara were faster.

At one point, Harvey had switched directions, forcing Dick and Barbara to do the same, momentarily ducking under a barrage of bullets as they flew over their heads, scurrying and scattering like frightened animals to avoid them. Jake Handle's world, as it stood, was a complete blank world of white, and there was no place to hide.

"Run, heroes, run!" Harvey said. "Without my coin, I have a one-track mind and it's stuck on killing you!"

Dick huffed out breath. The constant running was starting to take a toll and his face was drenched with sweat. He could see Barbara was feeling it as well. She was getting slower. They had been running in circles and avoiding Harvey's volley for close to an hour. The villain never let up and Harvey had an unending supply of 'thought' bullets.

_I should never have shown him to use mental imaginary so he could create that,_ Dick christened himself. _I should've known better._

All of a sudden, Harvey Two-Face stopped. Smoke exited the chamber of the Tommy Gun.

Dick and Barbara stopped and huffed trying to catch their breath. "What's…the matter…Harvey," Dick began, "out of…bullets?"

"Hardly heroes," Harvey replied, not even looking tired in the slightest. "You're very fast, I'll give you that. I can do this all day and even the fastest Cheetah tires, but—"

"Are you tired of chasing us, Wily E. Coyote?" Dick said, comparing Harvey to at the cartoon character the Roadrunner.

"Meep, meep," Barbara breathed out, following Dick's quip.

Dick smiled at her. He wiped sweat from his brow. He felt his heart racing. He was an athlete, and he trained his body for the most harshest of conditions and had chased down countless criminals in his time, but even he got tired. He was only human. Barbara's hair was soaked and saturated to her head. Dick thought she looked so sexy.

Harvey lowered the Tommy Gun. "I'd wager if I kill you Handles may let me off with good behaviour, but I'm not one to cater to another's whim's instructions, unless it gives me a hefty pay off," he said. "Why should I work so hard?"

"With hard work comes rewards, Harvey," Dick said. "Everyone knows that."

"You are so right, Grayson," Harvey smiled. "But being entertained is equally important and it's great for one's mental health. So, let's add to your so-called 'positive philosophy' and increase the fun factor," he smirked, " _for me_ , of course."

Harvey spread his hands in glorified godhood if this was now his world and three concrete square walls burst out from the ground, erecting themselves around Dick and Barbara and enclosing them to hinder any escape. Then three mobsters in traditional trench coats and fedora's popped into existence all holding M1 Thompson submachine Tommy Guns, they pointed them at the pair.

"Jake Handles was right, I do have a fascination with 1930s Chicago gangsters," Harvey said. "Initially, thats why I went into law. I wanted to stop their execution-style killing on the streets of Gotham. But now I know now what works and why they are so successful. Dominance and power is the key to overall success. You two have been a thorn in my side for years and now it's time to pay the piper. Any last words before you're swiss cheese, heroes?"

Dick pushed Barbara behind him to protect her, but he knew when the trio of gangsters began firing, there would be no escape.

Then he had a thought and he couldn't believe he had not thought of it before.

"Yes, Harvey, I do have a last request," Dick said. "And knowing that you're a man of conviction such a request will not be denied."

Harvey brought his Tommy Gun up to settle casually on his right shoulder. Harvey Two-Face looked to his other hand. Dick figured the villain was going to flip his coin, but it was not there. Jake Handles had taken it.

Harvey squeezed his hand and looked slightly confused, almost like he didn't know what to do. He had made a decision to summon the Tommy Gun to use, but now something within his conscious was urging him to flip his coin.

Dick knew Harvey needed that coin like a person with obsessive compulsive disorder needed to do certain things. On the rare occasion, a part of a person's brain with OCD comes forgets its disorder, but most often than naught, it's not really forgetting, it's needing to do it repeatedly even right after to assure the brain it has been done. Harvey's condition was slightly different. He had OCD, but he also had more control over it than most people.

"Okay sure, tell me your last request, hero," he finally said.

Dick withheld a smile. He heard the uncertainty in Harvey's voice. Harvey Dent was a smart man, but he could also be easily manipulated when he didn't have his coin. Normally, he would flip his coin to make a decision whether on not to hear or even grant Dick's last request. Now he had had to rely on making a decision on his own and it probably unnerved him.

"Let me kiss my beloved one last time," Dick requested. He looked at her. "A kiss that will last the ages. For in death, our love will fade. ' _Dear saint, let lips do what hands do; they pray, grant thou lest faith turn to despair'_."

Barbara gave him the slightest inclination looking directly into his eyes, she fluttered her eyes quickly and he did the same.

He purposely chose a quote from Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet and from Barbara's favourite scene. In retrospect, it had not been the first time they had re-enacted the scene, so she knew where he was coming from. On one other occasion, they had recited quotes from the play in their bedroom just for fun and got themselves so enumerated with the characters, they ended up emulating their desires, and engaged in night of passion. It was the most enthralled night Dick could remember.

However, Dick had a hidden reason for the quote this time and he knew Barbara would understand.

"' _Saints do not move, through grant for prayer's sake_ ,'" she responded, "' _Then move not, while my prayers's effect I take. Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged._ '"

"' _Then have my lips the sin that they have took._ '"

"' _Sin from thy lips? O trips sweetly urged! Give me my sin again!_ '"

Dick pressed his lips to Barbara's softly and passionately and brought her in a loving embrace, cupping his right arm around her waist. He felt passion for Barbara unlike any one else had ever known and he was in complete love with her. But he used his expression of love has a prelude at the moment for Harvey Two-Face's sake and Barbara shared in it. Their eyes fluttered, blinked in short bursts, relaying unsaid messages in code. Their kiss lasted for at least a minute.

"Okay, enough, and cute, quoting Romeo and Juliet," Harvey said. "I'm not an uneducated bumpkin, and I know my classical literature. You've had your kiss. Now prepare to meet your makers like the star-cross lovers you just quoted."

Dick smiled at Barbara. "Ready?"

"Absolutely," she replied.

They both turned in unison and—

Dick knelt down and threw two Wingdings at gangsters embedding their points into the gun barrels preventing them from firing.

Barbara stood and did the same, throwing over Dick's head, sending one Batarang into the third gangster's barrel, and sending the another one at Harvey, hitting the gun out of the villain's hand.

They had blinked morse code to each other. The kiss was both a symbol of their love and a distraction. If Harvey could do it, then they could to, and they conjured up in their minds and manifested in their hidden hands not showed to Harvey weapons of opportunity. Through the years, they had formed a sense of camaraderie and they used it here to disarm their enemies.

It worked.

With the immediate attack, Harvey's concentration split and the three gangsters vanished out of existence. It reminded Dick of 'thought bubbles' popping when an idea was lost or discounted.

Dick then charged Harvey Two-Face and delivered a left hook to the villain's chin and then a right cross for good measure knocking the insidious man down. Dick went over and picked up the Tommy Gun and returned to Barbara as she stood over Harvey.

"I'm not a violent man, Harvey," Dick started.

"Coulda fooled me," Harvey said, rubbing his chin. "You learn well from the Bat."

"You like history, so take this into account," Dick said. "If you recall from historical records from old Chicago and the gangster lifestyle you admire so much, Al Capone gathered all the leaders of his gang to a meeting to discuss plans for expansion and loyalty to his cause, but then he executed two of his men for messing up. I'm sure the irony of it isn't lost on you."

Harvey grumbled under his breath. "That a bat just beat me? That's so cliche," he said. "And that's something Riddler would come up with. But you've always been quick with the quips."

Dick smile. "It's one of my good qualities," he said. Then: "Just note, whatever you can conjure up in this place, we can counter it, because that's what teammates do," Dick said. He looked at Barbara. "We are teammates in the field and teammates in life."

"Forever and always," Barbara said.

"Amen!"

"Harvey growled. "Sentimental rubbish," he said. "Even love can be bought."

"Not our love," Dick said at the comment. Then: "One other thing…" The Tommy Gun vanished from his hand using the power of his mind. "We can also make things disappear. Jake said this was his world, but it looks like we can control things here as well to a certain degree. So, he may not have complete control over everything like he claims. It may have been a lie."

"And where is this place, exactly?" Harvey asked.

"Interesting question," Dick said, extending his hand. "Do we have a temporary truce?"

Harvey looked up, but he didn't take Dick's hand. He shoved back and then got to his feet on his own. He brushed off his suit. "Yeah, sure," he said. "So, how do we get out of this place? Any ideas?"

"That, Harvey, is the six-four-thousand dollar question," Dick said.

_To be continued..._


	15. Origins of a Villain

"Damn it, Scudder! Where are they?"

Wally lifted Mirror Master by his shirt with balled fists above the ground, the villain's feet dangling. He had such a grip that Scudder gasped for breath, Wally's knuckles pressing against his throat cutting off his airway.

"Someplace…somewhere…you, nor I can go!" Mirror Master said.

"You should know nothing's impossible, Sam," Wally said. "Now being them back!"

Just then, Alfred, the Wayne Family butler came to the door of the room. He was carrying a shotgun. Behind him stood both Tim and Damian. They had obviously followed the noise and commotion on the second floor of the Manor.

"My word," Alfred said, seeing Flash and Mirror Master in conflict in the visitor room, Dick and Barbara's room. "What is all this?"  
"The Manor's security system detected intruders in this location," Tim said. "I guess we found them."

Flash threw Mirror Master to the floor and again and took the Mirror Gun.

Flash tossed the Mirror Gun to Damian. He wanted to get it away from Sam's immediate reach. Damian caught it with both hands. The thirteen year old looked at it.

"Mirror Master sent Dick and Barbara into the 'mirror verse'," Flash answered to Alfred's question. "He says there's restricted access, but I think he's just being stubborn. He sadly also knows our real identities," Wally said, pulling back his mask. "I don't know who his partner is, but I was just about to find out. Dick and Barbara were zapped away and disappeared with that gun."

"About his partner," Tim began, stepping into the room next to Alfred, "I looked at the CCTV and his partner's face was swirled out. The only technology that can do that is indicative of that is Sypral, but how this person got in the Batcave is perplexing. There's no starting point. But I'll review everything again and see how he got in some other way."

"Who cares right now," Damon spoke up, stepping closer. He pointed Mirror Master's own gun at him. Mirror Master didn't seem nervous. "Where did you send the Grayson and Gordon? Tell me or I'll use this. And if you don't think I can figure out the password on this thing, you're dead wrong. I've seen this gun in action. It has multiple settings, not to mention it's used to open your special gateways into the 'mirror verse'. It can blow a hole straight through man's chest. Do you think you can _reflect_ that?"

Mirror Master gave Damian a narrow gaze. "You're bluffing! You have no idea how to use my Mirror Gun and the atomic properties alone is way beyond your kindergarten eduction. You could send this entire place sky-high. Don't fiddle with it."

Mirror Master got to his feet, but Wally was right beside him. He grabbed Mirror Master like one word hold a dog by the scruff of the neck. The villain cringed has Wally put on the pressure. It was an obviously a show of strength.

"Then show us how to use it, Sam, and bring our family back," Wally insisted adamantly, yanking the villain's mask back exposing Mirror Master's identity. He was much younger looking than anyone thought with light-brown hair. Wally figured mid-twenties. "Dick is like a brother to me and I do not abandon family. I feared losing him when he was shot and I won't go through that agony again. You targeted me then, due to the possibility of my ability to reverse time to stop the shooting, I later learned. You've been in league with Jake Handles from the beginning. And while we were fighting, our conflict nearly cost the life a little girl when falling glass from a high-rise building you targeted nearly sliced her in two. I saved her in the nick-of-time, and even travelled back in time a few seconds using the Speed Force so I could give myself the time to snatch her away from danger, but I was too late to help Dick."

"That was the plan all along, hero, although I do regret getting that little girl being involved in _our_ fight," Sam said. "But you know what they say—wrong place, wrong time. As for Dick Grayson and Barbara Gordon, I can't reach them. I told you! It was a one-way trip. Handles set up that way. He controls their fate now. He put up a barrier the momentI sent them there. No one, not even myself with my Mirror Gun, can get to them now."

"Handles?" Tim expresses shocked. "Jake Handles? As in formerly of Spyral? The guy who is currently a charred hunk of hard rock in storage—when he was fired to a crisp by the Batmobile's booster engine? That guy? But he's dead!"

"Um, yeah, _that guy_ ," Sam said. "He was vague on the details, I don't really know how he did it, but he's like a freaking God rising from the dead like that. If he had his own religion, he'd be some sort of Messiah. He told me everything that happened on Treasure Island and in the Wayne Manor when he took all those guests hostage, but only up to a certain point—his death, not so much. I guess it's hard to talk about one's death openly. It's a hard conversion, I guess?"

"We know someone like that," Damian said, "and he's a complete and total ass about it frequently using it as an excuse."

Everyone knew, except for Sam Scudder, that Damian was talking about Jason.

"I saw the guy die," Scudder said about Jake Handles, "and exactly the way you described watching from the 'mirror-verse'. When he told me who you all were, I was amazed. It's very hard to keep a secret these days. Now I know everything and there's not a damn thing you can do to me to prevent me from telling the world. Or, maybe I'll just sit on the information for a while and when I need a favour, I'll call on you, and you can look the other way when I have a big crime spree. Sounds good?"

"You want to blackmail _us_? The Batfamily?" Damian said and laughed. He pointed the gun at Scudder. He had been tinkering with it while they talked. "By the way, I figured it out." The gun beeped with a ready signal.

Sam Scudder gasped shocked. "How the hell did you crack the password?"

"It wasn't hard. I just had to use a little ingenuity and mentally prowess. The password is SSSV1."

"How did you figure that out?"

"Tt," Domain smacked his tongue against the inside of his mouth. "It was child's play, Scudder. You were once a founding member of _the Secret Society of Super Villains_ —a group that consists of multiple members who fought against the _Justice League_. Taking that into account and that you're a narcissist, you naturally see yourself as being number one. You need to use your gun in a pinch, so you need a easy enough password to put in quickly. You used the initials SSSV and then the number 1."

Sam growled under his breath. "Damn, you annoying little brat! Like father, like son."

"Thank you," Damian replied. "We Batboys can get annoying. But when it comes to criminals like you, stupidity runs in your blood."

"Excellent work, Master Damian," Alfred said. "You do your father proud."

"Naturally, Pennyworth," Damian stood erect pridefully. Then: "So, Scudder, you going to tell us about Jake Handles' plans now, or do you want that hole in your chest? I'm more than willing to deliver the latter."

Scudder put up his hands. "No wait, I'll tell you what I know, but I don't know about the full extent of his plans."

"Then tell us how he came back to life."

"I'm not sure exactly, but he mentioned something about this…I forgot what he called it, but it was some weird goo…that restored him, altering his physiology and giving him new metamorphic abilities. He's a Metahuman now."

"Weird goo? Oh god!" Tim said. "Please no! I confirm something! And I really hope it isn't what I think?" Tim nodded, and then raced passed Alfred and out the door.

"Master Tim, no running in the Manor!" Alfred said after him.

"Where does he think he's going?" Wally asked.

* * *

Tim Drake impatiently waited for the elevator to reach the Batcave. Normally he wouldn't care how long it took, but right now he was a huge rush to find out what he most feared. If it was true, then both he and Bruce should have heeded Dick and Arkells's concerns and destroyed the charred husk of Jake Handles and the 'Dark Heart' when they had the chance.

But Bruce wanted to keep then to study. Jason was right about Bruce in being a hoarder.

When the elevator doors open, he spared no time and ran across to the main area of the Batcave to the large storage vault where they kept the bulk of the experimental items brought back from villainous schemes. This storage vault was a wall to wall shelving depot, transparent and brightly lit.

Tim quickly went through the labels and then pulled open the drawer that should have contained Jake Handles charred remains in a containment vessel. But not only was the vessel cracked open, the remains were gone. Nothing was left.

He found himself swearing. He was not one to use vulgar words, but this time it called for.

Arkells and Bruce came running into the storage vault. Jason was the last one to arrive and he smelled of nicotine. He was obviously smoking in another part of the cave, but heard his cry.

"Timmy, what's going on?" Jason asked first.

Tim didn't say a word and walked past them all to the station where he had his laptop and where he was examining the liquified 'Dark Heart' until last night. And what should have contained the capsule with a liquefied heart, there was only an empty containment vessel, the lid propped open. He put them both down side by side.

"Tim?" Bruce voiced. They had all followed him.

"Christ!" Arkells swore suddenly without having being told. "Oh, hell, no!" He pointed at Bruce accusatorially. "This is your fault! If you only destroyed that thing when I said!"

Arkells backhanded both containers to the floor.

"Arkells, take it easy!" Jason said calmingly.

"God, if those two have bonded together—we are in deep shit!"

"Enough," Bruce said, "and settle down. Tim? Is Arkells correct?"

Tim nodded. He told the others what he thought. "But I can't be certain. We'll have to review the CCTV in the Batcave."

Bruce sighed. "I think we can stop looking for a mysterious intruder then," he said. "The camera surveillance system showed that he had his face 'swirled out'. Our intruder didn't break in, Jake Handles broke out."

"And with symbiotic properties, the same as Arkells to a degree," Jason said, "and after what that thing did to me…Dick's old friend can be anything he wants." Jason then swore.

Arkells put a hand to his hand in frustration. "Damn it! He now as my special abilities that I received with knowledge from the supercomputer I fused with in the future," he said. "It showed me how to alter my biometric physiology using advanced data. I removed the heart because it was hurting me. If I knew it had developed a sentient intelligence, I would have destroyed it as soon as it was out of me. The fused AI in me simulates a heart, so I was fine without a human one when Professor Pyg removed it."

"This is no one's fault but mine," Bruce said. "We need to find a way to stop it. How did you learn of all this, Tim?"

"From Mirror Master," Tim said. "Wally, Damian and Alfred are keeping him company in Dick and Barbara's room." He briefly told them what happened. "And Bruce…" he then began anxiously, "Mirror Master used his Mirror Gun to send them back into some sort of alternative version of the 'mirror-verse' and he says it's irreversible. He can't get them back. Jake Handles controls it."

Jason grunted. "Timmy, if you believe that, then I have some swamp land in Florida to sell you," he said. "Who does Mirror Master think we are? We are harbingers of things that go bump in the night and we've all come back from the great beyond. I'll get the truth out of Mirror Master. West is a bit of a wimp when it comes to getting answers that hard way. Fortunately, I don't have that problem."

"No killing, Jason," Bruce warned, pointing a finger. "Your methods are brutal, shooting Penguin is proof of that."

"I didn't kill him, Bruce. I mortally wounded him."

"Same thing, but luckily Penguin survived somehow."

"Don't they always? You did bring Joker back to life and it's like an eternal conflict between them and us. Like some twisted joke someone is playing on us—they can't die, and no one will let us die. But hopefully, I taught Penguin a very valuable lesson. He killed my father and a little revenge never hurt anyone. You know all about that, don't you, Daddy Dearest?"

Jason smiled, showing healthy, white teeth. Bruce frowned.

Jason punched the fist into an open palm, then said, "Time to teach Mirror Master there's nothing that isn't irreversible, or I'll shatter his glass jaw."

_To be continued..._


	16. Bark For Your Life

Jason headed to the second floor of the Manor and then went down the hallway to the visitor room that was occupied by Dick and Barbara. They had been staying until they could get a suitable place of their own in Gotham, but so far nothing had suited their fancy. Damian had purchased a condo in Bludhaven with Bruce's money when he was moonlighting as 'Nightwing Junior' and then gave it to Dick as a welcome back gift, but then sold it when Dick and Barbara decided it was too big for them.

Jason saw Alfred standing at the door of the visitor room brandishing a shotgun when he arrived. He met up with the apt butler.

"Al, I'm here to assist," Jason said. Then he saw Wally and Scudder both unmasked in the room and Damian holding the Mirror Gun. "Tim told me everything, but I can see everything looks good here. Even the little goblin is helping. He'll get a cookie later."

"Screw you, Todd," Damian said. "While you were somewhere goofing off we napped Mirror Master."

"I see that. Tim told us he sent Dick and Barbara to another dimension. Tim, Bruce, and Arkells are downstairs going through the CCTV to see if anything else is missing and to trace Jake Handles trail, but we have a reasonable hypothesis of events already."

"Master Jason, I'm pleased to see you," Alfred jumped in. "Master Damian has managed to crack Mirror Master's password on his Mirror Gun, but I'm afraid using it needs an expert."

Jason cupped his hips. "Well, Scudder, long time no see, you disgusting freak," he said. "The last time we met, you used your Mirror Gun on me and Roy and sent us to a very disturbing place."

"I don't know what you mean," Scudder said. "I've never seen you before." Scudder then gasped as if in sudden revelation and hid behind Wally. Wally didn't want Sam behind him and brought him back out front putting his left arm around Scudder's throat in a chokehold, but loosely. Scudder didn't struggle, but something disturbed him. Scudder shook his head. "Keep him away from me! If he's here, he's a member of the Batfamily. The last time Red Hood and I met, he and Arsenal buried me in a wooded coffin and nailed the lid shut. It took me hours to dig out and through six feet of dirt."

Jason cocked his head. "We were kind enough to leave your Mirror Gun on the surface so you could return home," he said. "I know you need it to return to the 'mirror-verse' every couple of hours or you'll die, so we weren't complete bastards."

"Master Jason, what on earth would provoked such a drastic response?" Alfred asked.

"I don't want to talk about it," Jason said, shivering from remembrance. "Roy and I have vowed never to speak of it. And if you don't want to be buried alive again, Scudder, you'll keep your mouth shut!"

"Yes, of course, my lips are sealed. But you two have more than just a bromance going on, I can tell," Scudder smirked.

Jason clenched his teeth. "Shut it or else!"

"Sounds like something worth investigating," Damian said with a sneaky grin. "Anything that makes you nervous—"

"Trust me, you little gnome, you'll better off _not_ knowing, unless you want to share in Dick's night terrors."

"Master Jason, language please," Alfred chided him. "I did not bring you boys up to spit venom at one another."

Jason didn't apologize. "So, how come Mirror Master is still here? I thought he can only spend a brief amount time in the real world, or the 'mirror-verse' would drag his sorry ass back kicking and screaming?"

"Jake Handles gave me technology that can extend my time in the real world by a few hours," Scudder said, indicting a watch under his right glove. "It's in tune with my deoxyribonucleic frequency that allows me to spend up to half a day without being forced to return to the 'mirror-verse'. I love it and it makes me feel like a human again."

Jason approached Scudder. Scudder tried to back away, cringing in anticipation of being hit. Jason stood within arm's reach and give the villain a hard stare. To Scudder, it much have looked like gazing into the eyes of the devil himself.

"We know what you did, Sam," Jason said, "and I can tell you that nothing is irreversible. You're an oddity yourself, just like the rest of us, but stuck in a bizarre dimension to live forever. Handles' technology has given you a new lease on life, but if you don't want me to take it away you'll tell me where you sent Dick and Barbara—even show me!"

Scudder shook his head. "I can't, it's blocked off to me. The moment I sent them through to Handles' personal realm by way of the 'mirror-verse', he shut the door. It's impossible!"

Jason grinned. "Nothing is impossible, I should know," he said. He cupped Scudder's chin and squeezed. Scudder cringed from the pain. "Play it again, Sam," he said, quoting an old movie line. "In other words, let's try this another way. You owe me, huge! Harper wanted to shoot you full of arrows after our last encounter, but I stopped him. We ended up burying you instead. In fact, it was his idea. We nailed the coffin shut with wooden nails and buried you with loose dirt. If we really wanted to kill you, you wouldn't be here right now. With that alone, you owe me your life. Now I'm calling in the favour."

"And you owe me, too, Sam," Wally said. "Think of that little girl you almost sliced in two when you brought down the glass panels of that high rise building when we fought. If that little girl died, think of what the Rogues would do to you—murdering a child. In prison, child abuse and murder of a child is extremely taboo. When it comes to kids, most criminals have morals and standards. Children are off limits. You would be hunted down by your own peers and we both know that you'd never be able to leave the 'mirror-verse' again. In saving that little girl's life, reversing time the stop those mirrors from coming down on her, I saved your miserable life."

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Scudder relented. "It was also some sort of flashpoint for you, eh, Flash? In preventing that little girl's death, you caused a split-point in time that branched of the timeline from that moment. You weren't fast enough to save your friend from getting shot. Luckily for him, Jake Handles took a different route from the other timeline where Nightwing really got shot in the head and suffered brain damage. I saw it, but in this universe, everything turned out okay, eventually. I haven't looked in the other timeline yet to see how the other Dick Grayson turned out. But trust me, when you get shot in the head for real, it has some serious consequences. I bet he'll never be the same and suffers from total amnesia. It's all part and parcel of being a hero, isn't it?"

Wally squeezed his bicep and pushed it into Scudder's throat. Scudder couldn't breath.

"Wally, _stop_!" Jason said, grabbing Wally's arm and pulling it away from Sam's throat. Wally was incredibly strong, but he relented for Jason. "We need him to operate the Mirror Gun."

Wally let Scudder go and the viilain gasped for breath. "You heroes…are so easily…triggered," Scudder said, coughing.

"I have a request," Jason said. "I'm familiar with the Mirror Gun, but you, Sam, are best to operate it. One miscalculation, and we could end up in some sort of 'shadow-verse' or 'negative-zone'. I've seen movies like that and it never ends well."

Scudder sighed. "You watch way too many movies, Jason Todd. I caught the reference to the 'Play it again, Sam', too. It was from an old Woody Allen movie. And now you just referenced Flash Gordon. You really need to read some books."

Jason shrugged. "I've been on a bit of a classic movie binge lately. I tried to watch Game of Thrones, but it has too much violence."

Damian looked at him strange. "This coming from the King of Violence on the street," he said.

"I like that nickname," Jason said. "But getting back to what I was saying.

Wally snapped his fingers. "I have an idea. We could we use universal sleuthways or gateways to access other realms that may then give us access to Jake Handles' personal realm. We can think of it like a back door."

Scudder blinked. "Huh? What the heck are you talking about?"

Wally perked up excited at the prospect. "Man, I remember now when the Justice League did something similar after Lex Luther tried to become 'Master of the Multiverses'. He jumped from one 'verse to another using dimensional corridors. He was trying to build an army, recruiting any villain that would join him. We stopped him, luckily, and then took his little 'toy' away. It self-destructed afterwards when a password wasn't inserted after twelve hours. The Mirror Gun could be used in a similar fashion."

Jason turned to Damian, then gestured for the gun, who reluctantly handed over Scudder's weapon after a brief pause. Damian told him the password to operate it—SSSV1.

"That's what we'll do here then," Jason said. "We slide to a multiverse closest to the 'mirror-verse', then to Handle' realm."

"Once there, I can enter the _Speed-Force_ and break through to Jake Handles domain," Wally added. "I think it could work."

"And, of course, Sammy boy, you'll be our willing guide to the sights and sounds of the 'mirror-verse'. Sounds like a fun place to admire oneself. Let me guess, when you're alone, you strip naked and admire your boys, perhaps even engage a little self-adulation, and get hands on. You know, you could go blind doing that."

"You're a freak, Jason Todd. Really, you need serious help."

"We've all been saying that for years," Damian commented.

"I'm not that lonely," Scudder said. "I may be young, and I'm incredibly handsome, but you quickly get bored of your own reflection everyday, and the loneliness is more than a person can bare some days. Think of it like being under quarantine. But in the 'mirror-verse', I can see and have seen so much more than any of you will ever get to. Secrets that no one wants others to know, I have them filed up here" —he pointed to his head— "compartmentalized for later use."

"When you have stunning good looks like I do—women love scars these days—you never get bored looking at yourself," Jason said with a wink. "Perhaps later you'll tell me some of those secrets. But for now…Wally, _hold_ him!"

Wally clutched Scudder around his chest this time, holding his arms back, as Jason reached behind his back and snatched something from his belt. He brought out what looked like a collar. He had picked it up before he left the Batcave. He quickly put it around Scudder's throat and locked it. There was a metallic small box out front.

"What the hell is this? A collar? I bet you enjoy this, you bloody masochistic! How many people have you chained up, whipped, and beaten into submission for your own perverse pleasure?"

"Only those I like," Jason quipped. "But don't think of it as a collar. It's more of an insurance policy. You see, if I don't say a certain phrase into the voice box recorder every three hours, the explosive device will blow your head clean off. So, if you try to run, you're a dead man. And just so you know, the box only responds to my voice and only I can unlock it. If you try to pull it off, the result will be…to quote another one of my favourite movies: ' _Shocking, positively shocking_.'"

"Goldfinger," Wally said. "That's one of my favourite James Bond movies, but my favourite one is 'You Only Live Twice'."

Jason smiled. "Mine, too. But for a completely different reason," he said. Wally produced a crooked smile knowing Jason's history and his resurrection after some cosmic effect brought him back to life.

Scudder swore. "I'm not a dog!" he frowned. "I won't bark or beg for my life!"

"Better learn," Damian said with a smirk.

"Serves you right in getting involved with someone like Jake Handles, Sam," Wally said. "There's no honour among thieves these days. He left you to rot. Once Handles got what he wanted, you were nothing to him. Nothing but a pawn in his revenge game."

"No need to rub it in," Scudder said. "Looks like I have no choice but to help you get your friends back. You can let me go now, Flash. With this collar around my throat, I won't be trying anything. Todd's a mad man. I know he's not bluffing."

"You better believe he's insane," Damian put in.

"He said: 'mad' not 'insane'," Jason retorted.

"They mean the same for you."

Jason grumbled, but let it go.

Wally released him and Scudder rubbed his throat. But despite being told the consequences, Scudder tested the collar anyway, and received a mild electrical shock. He swore. If he really yanked at it, it would probably electrocute him, he figured.

Scudder snatched the Mirror Gun away from Jason and then looked at the digital readout.

Jason tensed up.

"Chill, Thunder Thighs, I'm checking for the coordinates where I sent your friend," Scudder said. "I hope your diminutive sibling didn't screw with any of the settings?"

Damian growled under his breath. "You may be the dog, Scudder, but my bite is vicious! Want to test it?"

"Please settle down, Master Damian," Alfred said. "He'll give you flee's if you tangle with him."

"What did you just call me?" Jason inquired. Scudder looked up. "I do not have big thighs!"

"It's a nickname, Todd, we Rogues have nicknames for all your heroes," Sam said. "Some admirable, but most are not so nice, and others are just to mock you. Like we call Flash, Speedster, the Red Streak, or Baboon Butt."

"You call me _what_?" Wally said shocked. "Baboon Butt?"

"Remember that time you were being interviewed by a newscaster in Central City after you foiled one of Captain Cold's schemes? Well, maybe not. You've done so many interviews over the years. You and 'Pretty Boy'—Nightwing's nickname—like the cameras a bit too much. Anyway, during this particular interview, you dropped something on the ground. You bent over to get it, and the camera suddenly zoomed in on your butt, creating the impression that it was big and wide like that of a baboon. From that moment on—"

"I do not have a baboon butt! My wife loves my butt," Wally said, and he gave it a smack.

"Um, yeah, Wally, that didn't come out right," Jason said. "Neither did smacking yourself."

Wally cleared his throat. "Anyway, if I were you, I'd axe those nicknames, or you'll be the next member in the Blue Man Group. And I'm not talking about the band." He lower his right hand and cranked it like a vice at crotch level.

Scudder quickly got the point. "Sure, I'll send an internal memo to the others. Just note, we have a nickname for Wayne's Butler."

"I'd prefer you didn't," Alfred said, cocking the shotgun. "My name is Alfred Pennyworth, remember it."

"Tough guy," Scudder said.

Jason smiled proudly. Alfred was like a second father to him. "You have no idea. He's one of the toughest SOB's I know."

"Takes one to know one, sir," Alfred said back.

"Tt," Damian expressed, clicking his tongue to the inside of his mouth. "I have a few nicknames for Todd. Want to know?"

"So, do I, you little—"

"Master Jason… _language_ , please!"

_To be continued..._


	17. Big Sister Is Watching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new enemy joins the fray...and has a similar goal.

Sam Scudder checked over his Mirror Gun again and found it was in perfect working order despite Damian Wayne touching it and hacking the password. But there was on thing he could not hack, the installed thumb reader for secret information he had stored inside, special coordinates to his favourite hot spots in the world and the mirrors within the 'mirror-verse' that took him there.

He thought about blasting every one of them with his gun, but only for a minute. The bomb around his neck would kill him if he did. He was also nervous about the Wayne Family butler with the shot gun pointed directly at him. There was just too much risk.

He decided to play along for now until he found a way out of his predicament.

"So, here's the deal," Scudder began, as if he was charge. "We cross over to the 'mirror-verse', then use something I call a ' _slip-mirror_ ' to enter an adjacent 'verse that exists directly next to Jake Handles pocket dimension where he has Dick Grayson and Barbara Gordon. Wally West…" —he cleared his throat— "Flash, all _you_ have to do is create a slipstream conduit into Handles' world using that 'Speed Force' thing you do. I understand the rudimentary science behind what you can do, but only you have the full knowhow. And like I said, we can't get there directly. Jake has me blocked."

"I hope you're not lying, Scudder?" Jason said.

Scudder pointed to the collar. "Not with this thing on," he said. "I may be a creature of an alternative universe, but I still value my life. I regret even getting involved with Jake Handles now. His technology has helped me remain in the real world for longer periods, but in reflection, and no that's not a joke, the trade off has become a nothing but a distorted image."

"I'm glad you've able to _reflect_ of your _inverted ways,_ Sam, and maybe now you can now better _exemplify_ a more _positive image_ ," Wally said with a smile.

Scudder rolled his eyes. "Nice try, Flash. Mirror jokes? Don't quit your day job."

"Even I cringed at those puns, sir," Alfred said.

"You need to start spending less time with Grayson, West," Damian said. "His bad jokes are rubbing off on you."

Wally put his hands up in frustration. "Everyone's s critic! Okay, let's get serious. Let's get going, Sam. Take me and Jason to the 'mirror-verse', and once Dick and Barbara are safe and sound, the collar comes off. Then, and I hate to do this, you'll be free to go."

"I feel like a dog taunted by a bone," Sam said.

Jason put up a hand with a finger. "Give me a minute, I can't go into battle looking like I'm about to run a marathon in a jogging suit. Damian, you have my permission to whip Scudder's ass if he tries to escape."

"I don't need your permission to do that, Todd, but I understand you," Damian said. "Don't be long."

"Sir," Alfred said. "I believe some of your previous battle attire is still stored in the closest of your old room, the second visitor room, where Arkells was staying tonight."

Jason nodded. "Thanks, Alfred," he said, and then left the room.

When he returned ten minutes later, he was dressed in green dark tactical pants, silver and black boots, dark brown hard knuckle tactical gloves, a black long sleeve shirt with a brown leather jacket. He also had a double thigh holster gun belt with two loaded guns and carried a red face mask with dark highlights to cover his eyes. But nothing on him said, "I'm a member of the Batfamily". He preferred it that way, paving his own way through life, and working alone. Except those times he and Roy partnered up.

Roy was spending some time with his family at the moment.

"Looking good, buddy," Wally said. "Like a modern day gunslinger."

"Exactly the look I was hoping for," he replied. He held up his domino mask. "I probably won't need this, but since my helmet is down in the cave, and it'll take too long to explain things to Bruce, I brought a domino spare mask to slip on just in case." He looked to Alfred. "Al, can you tell Daddy Dearest where we are going? If I ask permission, he'll say no. Better to ask for forgiveness later than permission before and be denied."

"I will endeavour to inform Master Bruce of everything, sir," Alfred responded. "And sir, when did you ever ask permission to do anything? I was given the impression that you were not only a Jack of all Trades but also a Pirate of Every Sea?"

Jason smiled thin with a proud look on his face. But there was always a non-risqué, double-entendre whenever Alfred said something like that. He also means that I can 'lose my shit' and start on a streak of violence and destruction at any moment.

Wally gestured to the nearest mirror. "Shall we go?"

"Hey Todd," Damian began, "if you don't bring Grayson and Gordon back safe and sound, I'll come after you and kick your ass!"

Jason smiled again. "Keep a light on for us, Alfred," he said.

"I always do, sir. And god speed."

Scudder pointed his Mirror Gun at the drawer mirror, the same one he entered, and opened up a vortex for the trio to step through. Sam allowed it to stabilize for a moment before they each entered one by one.

* * *

On a throne made from only organic based material and wrapped with flowery blooms of flora and fauna to give it a pleasant look, the goddess of the plant world sat.

Her name was Poison Ivy, once known as Pamela Isley before as accident with some planet serum turned the misanthropic botanist and biochemist into one of Gotham City's worse criminals and one of Batman's most deadliest foes.

She was also one of the most beautiful women in the world according to some perennial articles in some of the most world renown botanist magazines. Strange enough, she didn't have to intoxicate the writers to write it. And even though she was a criminal, she was also known to be a crusader and a leader of tens of thousands of conservationists and environmentalists who saw human's encroachment into certain areas as a crime against the sanctity of the natural order of the world.

She vowed to return the world back to a simplest ecological state with some exceptions. Ivy advocated against human's destroying the environment, but she was also a woman, and a woman had biological needs—it was perfectly natural. The type that only another human could provide. She had, on several occasions, tempted to entice the Caped Crusader, and every one of his partners to come over to her side, but every one of them, even the little one, the newest Robin, had refused her advances.

She had started to believe men were not her type or that she was doing something wrong. Normal men were afraid of her beauty, and if she wanted some attention, Ivy would have to tie them up or intoxicate them with her special pheromones. But even though that would enhance their inner desires, it wasn't of their own free will. And after a while that got boring and discouraging.

But while she had failed with the opposite sex, her sex had more promise. That didn't mean she would stop trying with men, but a woman was a woman and when the opportunity arose, she was never one to shy away from taking it to satisfy her wants.

Surrounding Ivy was a flowery garden of her sisterhood and she loved every ounce of their company. She could talk to them and they would listen and whisper back a reply. She was psychically in tune with all of the plant world and it with her. Her lifespan was considerably extended and her appearance forever youthful. The natural properties of plant based organics did wonders for the beautification of one's skin and body and as long as she wished it, she would never age.

Within her garden of natural beauty were two self-standing oval mirrors. The old Disney tale of Snow White came to mind every time she looked into one, but she didn't need to ask it who was the fairest one of all because she already knew.

But the mirrors were not for her to gaze at her own reflection like a narcissist, they were in reality visual portals for her to see the world outside her established domain. The whole world was her domain, but within her own enclosed safe space arboretum, she could look upon the rest of the world and scoff at all those that destroyed the environment.

This time, however, she was watching two separate happenings unfold that concerned her and that could have long lasting ramifications as far as she was aware if something wasn't done. The visual mirrors were a gift from an ally who asked for her assistance when it came to fulling long standing plans.

In the left mirror, it showed a scene within a barren wasteland of white. There were two young occupants and one slightly older man. She had been watching them from the moment they had arrived and their interaction with each other. Unmasked now, but all clothed, Nightwing and Batgirl's identities were now known to her. And, of course, she knew Harvey Two-Face.

She showed particular interest in Dick Grayson.

"You are exceptionally handsome, Dick Grayson," she said. He was standing over Harvey Two-Face after the team of himself and Batgirl had just finished a minor skirmish with the villain. Two-Face was brought down after cornering the pair with some sort of mind trickery within a world designed to work with intuitive ingenuity. "What I wouldn't give to have you here with me, to wrap you up in my vines, and make you my pet, even to brake you. You have loveliest _cheeks_ I have ever seen on a man."

She tore herself away from Dick Grayson for a moment and looked into the mirror to her right and here another scene was playing out. The superhero known as the Flash and one of Batman's cohorts along with the villain known as Mirror Master (the man who had supplied her with the mirror to watch these events) were all surprisingly unmasked and discussing ways to retrieve Dick Grayson and Barbara Gordon from the clutches of an enemy that had stolen them away in a bedroom setting.

" _So, here's the deal,_ " Sam Scudder, the man she knew as Mirror Master, began. " _We cross over to the 'mirror-verse', then use something I call a 'slip-mirror' to enter an adjacent 'verse that existed directly next to Jake Handles pocket dimension where he has Dick Grayson and Barbara Gordon. Wally West…Flash, all you have to do is create a slipstream conduit into Handles' world using that 'Speed Force' thing you do. I understand the rudimentary science behind what you can do, but only you have the full knowhow. And like I said, we can't get there directly. Jake has me blocked…_ "

_Ah, Jake Handles—_ She thought.

The man who promised her the world in exchange for her services and her watchful eye. He had sought her out, and just recently, to aid in his plight for world domination. Jake Handles said he needed her help and when everything was said and done, she would rule the world as his queen. She had heard that before, but after she learned of the Sub-Harmonic Shock Disruptor, she knew he could change the world.

But first, he wanted to seek a little retribution on some people that had stirred his ire.

According to Jake Handles, and he had actually provided proof of his device, the Sub-Harmonic Shock Disruptor would bring down the old world and usher in a new one and one that would be rebuild with a collective image—his and Ivy's.

In the meantime, preparations had to be made and a revenge had to be taken. From what Poison Ivy gathered after seeing and speaking with Jake Handles, who had entered her world through a slipstream gateway of his own design, he was a bit of narcissist and an arrogant man. But he was also very intelligent and also quite handsome.

When it came to watching Handle's enemies, was where she came in. She was to watch certain people and if they tried to interfere, actions were to be taken. For the moment, those individuals in the left mirror were unconcerning. However, Mirror Master, Jake Handles partner in this scheme, was about to commit a double-cross, and she could not allow that to happen. Along with his company involving Jason Todd (Red Hood) and Wally West (the Flash, who used to be Kid Flash), from what she was witnessing, they were going about to enter the 'mirror-verse' and attempt to channel their abilities to break through to the realm of the left mirror.

"Oh no, my darlings," Ivy said, a series of vines began to whirl next to her in reaction to her emotions, "I can't let you spoil things. Things have already set in motion and the world needs to be restored back to a perpetual bliss without the toxicity of human kind."

She looked to her far right surrounded by wiggling vines to a pet project that she was experimenting on with growth hormones. It was a very large _dionaea musciputz_ , or more commonly known as a Venus Flytrap, a carnivorous plant native to subtropical wetlands on the East Coast of the United States in North Carolina and South Carolina. It caught its prey—mostly insects and arachnids—with a trapping structure formed by the terminal portion of each of the plant's leaves. It remained mainly at rest and didn't immediately react to its prey walking on its surface because it was patient. Only when one of its tiny hairs was touched did it snap its jaws shut quickly to suckle its meal that it consumed with disgusted acids over a prolonged period of time.

It clapped its jaws tight suddenly as something triggered it's hairs, something that she had not seen with her naked eye, but whatever it was, it would never see the light of day again.

_To be continued..._


	18. Trapped In Limbo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The latter half of this chapter is Rated M

When they emerged from a portal crafted by Scudder's Mirror Gun it was an almost instantaneous experience, like stepping through a simple door across a threshold. There is no disorientation and no confusion when they entered the 'mirror-verse'.

But once Wally and Jason stepped foot out, they looked around in amazement. It was a world of floating mirrors of all shapes and sizes. The sky was a clear blue and the ground was a distorted reflective surface.

Jason looked down and saw his reflection. It was like looking into a fun house mirror, but without the funny image. In fact, he preferred it that way. There was something disturbing about walking on yourself and he thought: ' _What would Sigmund Freud think about that?_ '. This was most likely the way Scudder preferred it. There were enough mirrors around.

Sam Scudder holstered his Mirror Gun in a thigh holster and reached for a floating mirror. He straightened his hair looking at himself. Without his mask, his hair was out of place and he wanted to fix it.

_For a man who said he was not vain_ , Jason thought.

Scudder released the mirror and it returned back to its original floating position as if it was attached to a pull cord. It hovered and bounced slightly as if blown by an invisible wind, never stationary. With all thee mirrors, there is no place the villain couldn't venture. As long as there was a mirror or a reflective surface, Sam Scudder could go anywhere he pleased or watch anything he wished.

"You do know voyeurism is against the law," Jason remarked. "But I wouldn't mind coming here every once in a while to take a peek at a certain someone in the shower."

Sam smiled thinly. "You have a crush on someone? Who is she?"

"Not a she, a he," Jason said. Wally looked at him with a startled look, followed by Scudder. Jason shook his head. "Not what you think, boys. I could do a lot of damage to Black Mask with these mirrors. Sabotage his operations and foil his weapons deals. With a place like this, criminals would be easy pickings without having to engage in lethality. I think Bruce would like that."

"And that's why, any future invitations are hereby revoked," Scudder said. "I live here, and this is my world, sometimes a little solitude helps me to think, but I do not want spot checks by the likes of you."

"Of someone being privy to your next scheme," Wally said, looking around. "I understand the appeal of the 'mirror-verse' now."

Jason could see Wally West analyzing everything. Wally would add this experience to a database he kept on his Rogues.

The 'mirror-verse' was known to Wally, but it was an ever-changing place filled with astonishment. It seemed simplistic, but it only had mirrors. There was nothing else. This is probably the reason why Scudder needed to continue to visit the real world.

Scudder walked to a round floating mirror that was hovering at shoulder level. He reached inside and brought something out. It was a root beer in a glass bottle. He popped off the cap and took a nice big gulp, then exhaled refreshingly.

Jason and Wally looked at him.

Scudder saw them looking at him. "There's no electricity in this world despite it being perpetually bright, so I have a place with a fridge that I put a mirror in," he explained. "I have to eat. I can bring things back with me to the 'mirror-verse', but I have to leave for the basic necessities of life. This mirror leads to a secret place and that's all I'm going to say about it."

Wally crossed his arms disappointedly. "Are you stealing someone else's food, Sam? Do you their bathroom, too? I hope you flush?"

Scudder extended his arms. "Look around you, Flash," he said defensively. "I was subjected to an accident they made me the soul occupant of this world, but I still have needs. I need to eat, drink, and evacuate my bowels just like everyone else. I also take showers and do my laundry in the real world. I may be a world-class villain, but I'm still human."

Wally eyed him and dropped his arms. "I'm beginning to think I've misjudged you, Sam. I was unaware of all the generic hardships that you have to suffer. All the day-to-day things that normal people have to go through they take for granted."

"Yeah, sure, feel sorry for the super-criminal," Jason said facetiously. "He robs, pillages and plunders. Don't feel too bad for him. He needs to learn that life is hard and not everyone gets what they want."

"I'll never grow old here and stay eternally young. As long as I am trapped in the 'mirror-verse', I may even see the end of time."

This was Scudder's world and he controlled it, but as long as he had the collar, Jason was in control of him. And he wouldn't dare betray them or risk his own demise.

"You may be eternally young, even ageless, but with the right conditions, anyone can die," Jason stated. "Even pseudo-gods."

Jason thought back to his time as Robin when he believed he was untouchable. That was until Joker. He was beaten with a crow bar to within an inch of his life and then blown up. Something unworldly brought him back, but every day he suffered the consequences of his resurrection. He had been fully relived with a Lazarus Pit and trained to use the _All Caste Swords_ that were directly linked to his soul, but in doing so, it made him something else entirely—no longer human. Some called it _Meta-Human_.

He used his new abilities to be a crusader for justice, and despite his methods, and Batman's forever disappointment, he would not be stopped. Someone had to take the criminals out one way or another.

Bruce poised a physiological question to him once along the lines of a riddle. He said, _If there were one-hundred people and each of them was a killer, how many killers would their be if you killed one of them?_

It was simple enough question with a simple answer without having to think about it: there would be ninety-nine left.

Bruce said that was wrong and said it would still be one-hundred.

Jason didn't understand at first, but when he thought about it he realized that Bruce was right. They would still be one-hundred, that included ninety-nine original killers, plus the one who killed a killer.

Bruce told him that the same philosophy could be put to Jason's methods. If he killed one criminal, there was always another one to rise the ranks, playing to the notion of a never ending rotating conveyor belt of villainy. Therefore, his cardinal rule to put them away, was paramount to change a killer's behaviour. Because if they change their ways, only then would there be one less killer in the world, and ninety-nine left.

Jason thought it was stupid, but he got Bruce's point. He also told Bruce that he would continue to do things his way and keep the status quo. Why change his methods now? Sometimes reputation was everything. Follow through in your threats or you'll lose all fear factor.

"Okay, let's get this party started," Jason said. "Which mirror do we go through to the other dimension, so Wally can open up a conduit to Jake Handles' realm?"  
Sam pulled out his Mirror Gun again, put in the password, and brought up the coordinates. He looked up, the around, and pointed to a floating square mirror a little ways off. It was the only mirror that had a swirl frame décor in the 15th Century Victorian style.

"Should have known," Jason said. "Swirl frame, Spyral, and Jake Handles, from what Dick told me, Jake is descended from Victorian, European royalty." He mused for a moment.

"What is it, Jason?" Wally asked.

"I just remembered something else Dick told me about Jake, something about his family." Jason snapped his fingers. "Now I remember. He has a cousin in prison."

Scudder's brow rose. "Right," he said. "Before I was summoned to Wayne Manor, I broke Jake's cousin out, and I took him to an undisclosed location. It was part of the overall plan. I doubt he is still there, however. It was a warehouse near Gotham Harbour."

Wally frowned. "You _what_? Who is Handles cousin and what did he do to end up in prison?"

"He was an ex-agent of Spyral, I believe? But that's all I know. He committed a hideous crime that got him sent to a maximum security prison, but the details were not disclosed to me. I was only directed to break him out. I was in the 'mirror-verse' when I was sent a message written on a mirror in red script. I was told what to do and where to go. When the message came in, I knew Jake was alive at that point and I awaited his summons like we had planned on a previous occasion. I thought he had died, I thought wrong. I destroyed the mirror afterwards. It didn't lead anywhere significant."

Wally eyed Scudder disappointedly.

"We should alert the others when we get back," Jason said. Wally agreed. "So, let's get going. Show us the way, Sam."

Just then, something burst out of a large oval mirror next to them and wrapped itself around Sam's wrists. They were green vines with organic leafy foliage. Sam struggled against them, but they had a hard grip on him.

"What the hell is this?" He pulled at them, but they pulled back, dragging him back to the mirror.

Then he was yanked back and pulled forcefully into the mirror. It shattered afterwards, the pieces falling to the ground.

The shock of it caused Wally to miss the opportunity to react to it.

Neither of them had noticed that particular mirror when they had been looking around. Almost like it had just suddenly come into existence. And yet, there are so many mirrors. One generic mirror wouldn't catch their attention if they were not looking for it.

Jason swore, then picked up a single leaf that had fallen off one of the vines when they yanked Scudder back and into the mirror.

He examined it closely and was shocked when identified its organic properties. Strangely enough, he had been reading an encyclopedia of organic plants and herbs in preparation of growing fresh tobacco in his hideout because cigarettes were getting too expense and black market one were even more toxic and he had come across a chapter on Horticultural vines.

But it didn't take him long to realize the horrific truth of what just happened.

"Oh, Christ!" he said. "Why the hell is Poison Ivy involved in all this?"

"Poison Ivy? You mean that plant chick that keeps wanting to kill you guys?"

"Yeah, that's the one," Jason he, and shivered. The incident in question with Scudder before involved her. Mirror Master had sent both he and Roy to another place and they encountered Poison Ivy, getting caught in a vine jungle at abided to her whims.

"Um, Jason," Wally said. "I think we have a larger problem here, we're trapped in the 'mirror verse' and Scudder has the Mirror Gun with him. We could go through a thousand different mirrors, but I can't navigate to where Dick and Barbara are without Scudder directing us to that adjacent 'verse next to Handles'. We're lost in this mirror limbo. And, just to put things into perspective, if we enter a mirror without knowing where it leads, we can find ourselves entering into a place that could get us instantly killed, or worse."

Jason swore again.

* * *

Sam Scudder felt the force of being split between two worlds as his body surged away from the 'mirror-verse' to who-knows-where.

He had been in the real world for far longer than he had anticipated and almost immediately he felt his body molecules begin to stabilize the moment he returned to the 'mirror-verse'. One way he described it was having a feeling of complete and absolute calm. But not after he was yanked into a mirror by a pair of organic leafy vines with the strength of steel, then spat back out of another mirror. He landed on soft ground in a bed of leaves that bounced under his bulk like a spring mattress. Unfortunately, the vines kept a firm hold of his wrists, then more vines emerged and began to wrap themselves around his ankles and spread him eagle.

He struggled against them, but couldn't move.

More vines then began to wrap around his forearms, chest, thighs, and throat, slithering around him like sentient serpents to keep him down. He could only look up at a ceiling now that was covered with a healthy fill of green leafy foliage. He had to be in some sort of arboretum or plant house. He began to notice it was very warm.

Suddenly, one vine wiggled its way into his shirt and then shifted around as if lost.

"Hey, what the—"

But then it eventually found its way to his shift collar and ejected itself. It touched the bomb collar, even investigated it, but didn't pull on it. It curved into an S, and then remained there, as if looking at him—having eyes he could not see.

Then with one quick swoop, it ripped his shirt down the middle with its leaves like they were sharp razor blades exposing his chest.

The vine slithered away back under some ground foliage, but then another vine followed and moved with quick movements as if it had a rudimentary intelligence, and found his lower tights, entering, and brushed against his lower region. Sam was not wearing any underwear because he chaffed and it entered into an area that was out of bounds.

"Hey! Stop that! What the hell!"

The vine wiggled into a place that made him flinch and he clenched his buttock cheeks, but it only made things worse. "Don't you dare go there! I'm not that kind of guy! What the hell are these things? Someone, _help me_! Get these things off me!"

"They are not _things_ , Samuel Scudder," came a sweet sounding voice. A woman of such extraordinary beauty came into his sight. She had long red hair and wore a skimpy, leaflet attire—almost like she wasn't wearing anything it all. A vine emerged from the ground and wrapped itself round her loosely and affectionately. She kissed it, and if Scudder didn't know any better, he could have sworn it blushed. "They are my family. They share my thoughts, whims, and also my desires."

He gasped as the vine at his lower region then began to rub in a private place that immediately made him feel violated. It then secreted some sort of wetness, a form of bio-organic lubricate. "Oh god no! Don't do—"

He clenched his teeth as it succeeded in his attempts, most likely directed by Poison Ivy's thoughts. He had never felt anything like it. "Make it stop! Oh, please, make it stop! I'm not—"

Poison Ivy stepped over Sam Scudder and then sat down upon his front. He felt her weight upon his pelvic region. He looked at her through teary eyes as the vine continued in its methods of sexual perversion.

"Please, make them stop…"

He clenched his teeth again as the vine penetrated deeper at some telepathic command by the villainous. And he couldn't help what came next. Poison Ivy smiled, obviously feeling his reaction to the stimulation.

Poison Ivy stood up and looked at Scudder all tied up. His tights could not contain the insatiable and enjoyable sensation. Tears began to cascade down his cheeks and he shook his head begging for it to stop. "Why…are you…doing this…" —he gasped involuntarily— " _…_ to _me_!"

Ivy said, "Simply put, it's to protect what is rightfully mine!" Ivy was barefoot. She brought her right foot up and onto his crotch and then began to wiggle her toes. Scudder gasped. "And I have been lonely. You are very cute and the things I'm about to do to you no man will be able to tolerate without breaking." She continued to rub. "I am a woman, after all, and I have needs. I was also told to hinder any attempts to prevent any insurrection towards Jake Handles plans."

This got Sam's attention.

"You and the others were attempting to do just that," she continued. "Therefore, I have stopped you in your tracks and will punish you for your betrayal."

She took her foot off him. "But I have other business at the moment, so I'll leave it to a very good friend of him to torture you."

Just then, Harley Quinn emerged from a shrubbery wall that pulled away like a tradition Japanese sliding door. She wore her traditional red and black Palindrome clown skin-tight outfit. Scudder knew about her, but he had never actually teamed-up with her. She was one of Batman's foes and she mostly stuck to home in Gotham City partnering up with The Joker.

"Harley, I leave sweet Samuel to you," Poison Ivy said, as Harley came to stand next to Ivy. "Please show him the best hospitality."

"Oh, Sammy and I will get on swell, won't we, eh, sugar?" She smiled clownishly behind her white face paint, ruby lips, and black domino mask. She was sexy in her own way, Sam thought, but also a complete psycho.

Harley suddenly leaned over and kissed Poison Ivy on the lips with a sensational kiss. Ivy welcomed it and they both met the other with moist lips. Teary-eyed, he suddenly found himself in heaven-like-state, and then the vine finished him off. He clenched his teeth and let out a heavy gasp as he felt his tights saturate.  
Harley looked at him, after she broke the kiss. "Oh, bad boy! You're gonna hafta be punished for that. Who said you could enjoy our special moment? I've had lotz of time to realize there's more to life than Mr. J. Exploration is the hallmark of sumthin' sumthin' or other." She shrugged. "Just saying, you only live once. But when I'm through with you, you'll wanna die."

The vine removed itself from his tights, but the other ones continued to restraint him. "What…do you…mean?"

Harley smiled devilishly. "Men, you are such scumbags to us babes. Time to make you pay for all the harm you do to our egos."

"A new age of Feminism has just begun," Poison Ivy said, "and you're going to be the target of our ire, Samual Scudder. Your alter ego is the Mirror Master, but when we're finished with you—you'll call _us_ your Master."

Scudder's eyes widened as the vines once again began to work on him and this time with more intensity.

_To be continued..._


End file.
